Life From Ends
by StonedAsia
Summary: Alternate X-Men 01-06: The Sentinel Contingency is formed to halt mutant action along the coasts of USA, but Magneto lashes out in protest. Fortunately, Charles Xavier bands together his own mutant teenagers to oppose the war. Please read and review
1. Read Me

Title: Alternate X-Men: As above – different for each Series Part really, and I like to name the individual chapter parts too.  Jolly, isn't it?

Author: StonedAsia, aka, Rowland Wells.

Disclaimer: Everything I've detailed below is officially the property of Marvel Comics, Stan Lee and Jack Kirby.  Chris Claremont was an inspiration, and so was Jim Lee's artwork.  

I don't own the characters and I'm not making any money from this; I just like to play with them.

Rating: R  Apart from some bad language – don't say fuck or bugger – and some implicit sex and violence, there really isn't too much to worry about.  Maybe later, though, I'll have some drugs and rock and roll too; who knows?

Spoilers: Yes, there is some resemblance to the Ultimate X-Men comic line, but it is slightly different; I only took that comic line for inspiration.  I guess there's also some part of the films and tv series as well; plus a healthy dose of my imagination.

Summary: There's a lot of action, a little slice of romance, some small helpings of fantasy politics, thrills and spills and lots of words.  If you're not into reading, then go away.  No, seriously, go away.

Reviewing: I have spent quite a while writing these works, and even if it comes to no satisfactory fruition, I would still love to know what the X-Men fans think, so please review.  It would be very beneficial, and you'd be doing me a favour.

Authors Notes: A lot of time went into these works, and I'm sure that some people, like me, will appreciate the outcome.  I'm not a very good writer, but I try my best.

Things you should know before we tread virgin territory:

· The original X-Men Xavier hires are: Scott, Jean, Hank, Tessa and Warren

· I hardly ever use their codenames because I feel that detracts from the personality of the aforementioned character.  I realise that some characters just like in the comics appear two-dimensional at first, but as the story deepens, and more additions are made, they will start to gain a third dimension

· The following stories take place in the present day, but the Marvel Universe is only different in that the characters have been altered

More Authors Notes: I love music so much, and although everyone likes something different, the best music for reading this kind of stuff too is usually by:

Autechre, Aphex Twin, Boards of Canada, Underworld, Future Sound of London, Tricky, Massive Attack, Nine Inch Nails, Portishead, Lamb, Squarepusher, Photek, Martin Grech, Orb, DJ Shadow, Bjork, Leftfield, Radiohead and of course, the wonderful Smashing Pumpkins – which, lets face it, goes with anything. 

Even More Authors Notes: I've had some support in writing the following, including: Mum, Dad, Bunny and Allie

Plus my inspirational and often amusing friends who at least bothered to talk about it with me –

Sam, Ed S, Ed F, Hannah, Fro, Ant, Dave R, Dave M, Nial, Rob R, Serkie, Toby, Billy and the ever humorous Dave Y – without your constant barrage of questions I might never have been motivated enough.

You people are all very special.

Thanks for taking an interest, and I might buy you all a little something when I'm rich and famous.


	2. ask me no questions, i'll tell you no li...

Writer: Rowland Wells

_Disclaimer:  I am in no way any part of Marvel Comics or any affiliation of their enterprise.  I do not own the X-Men or any Marvel Characters.  _

Alternate 

X-Men 

#01

"ask me no questions, i'll tell you no lies"

In the sub-zero temperature conditions of the West-Siberian snow fields, near the Salekhard dam, a beaten and bruised man lay shivering on the ground, his laboratory coat stained with blood spots.  He cowered, groaning to himself and clutching his broken arm.  A long shadow loomed over him, pausing to take in the sight.  Magneto took hold of the documents in his hand, and tossed them violently over the Doctor's body.  'Make sure this installation is never resurrected, human filth.'  He stated.  The man crawled back onto a fallen tree stump, covered in a white sheen of snow.  'What are you going to do?'  He asked, his voice cracking with fear.  Magneto lowered his gaze and turned to the serene view of the Salekhard dam, water pouring over the turbines, powering the installation underneath the snow fields.  

'I'm going to raze your base to the ground, and anyone that's still in it.'  

Wanda walked with Pietro out into the early morning light through the installation doors.  She nodded to her father, and they joined at his side.  The Doctor leapt to his feet crying out.  'You can't – my wife is still in there!'  He took hold of Magneto, spinning him around.  As soon as his fingers grasped the material of the lord's uniform, he was brought off his feet and tossed effortlessly against the doors.  'My men were in there!  Your kind crossed a boundary that you cannot account for by this 'research'!  Spare me your pain.'  He glanced over to the five prisoners being escorted into the helicopter, and then turned his attention to the dam.  He stretched out his hands and concentrated on what lay before him.  The helicopter's rotor blades spun into life.  Summoning a supreme effort, he collapsed the generators inside the installation, and reversed the turbines at the bottom of the dam.  In a brief instant, the land shook as if an earthquake had struck, and broke, falling in on itself.  The dam ruptured cracks through the main wall and blew open an epic wound, throwing water out onto the flat land beneath it.  It welled up, covering the lake and trees in a tidal wave.  His eyes remained unblinking as he witnessed this will of force.  Magneto raised the metal structure from the remains of the underground installation into a colossal wall, blocking the path of the water.  It jutted out from the land like a skewer, breaking the path of the water in two.  The crew onboard the helicopter called to him, and Magneto turned to leave, the water shattering over the snow fields.  It hovered quickly and then disappeared into the air.

'I took care of everything inside – everyone that was being held is onboard now, father.'  Wanda looked back at him from the controls of the aircraft.  'It seems we've picked up a stranger here as well as the Acolytes, father.'

Magneto stared back at his son, Pietro as he entered the cockpit.  'Why did you wait so long to leave?  You endangered everyone onboard – think next time, you fool!'  Pietro bowed his head slowly, and then grabbed at the controls angrily.  He kept silent.  Wanda locked eyes with her father and grasped his hand.  'I thought we should wait for you, travelling home on your own could have taken too much out of you.'

Magneto walked out of the cockpit without saying a word, and into the cabin.  He surveyed the contents.  The former prisoners sat, dressing themselves with blankets, while Rogue sat with their new prisoner, tending his cuts and scratches.  His long hair was tied back in ponytail, and his red eyes penetrated Magneto's gaze.  'Who are you, my friend, and what were you doing in that government installation all the way out here?'  

Rogue tucked a syringe back into a medical box, placing it under the seat.  She swished a lock of hair behind her ear with gloved hands.  'He hasn't said anything since I saw him.  Guess he's just the silent type.'  

The stranger rubbed at the injection point with callused fingers, and kept his head low.  Magneto looked at his followers, each of them exhausted from their ordeal.  'Do any of you know anything about this man?'

Cortez spoke to him, the musty blanket wrapped around his shoulders.  'My lord, he was with me and Anne Marie in our cell block – he said nothing throughout our capture.  He was there before we arrived.  I can't tell you anything about him.'  

'I guess he's a mystery, then.'  Rogue said.  She looked at the stranger, lying back against the cold metal interior.  His red eyes closed, letting tiredness overcome his senses.

                                                *        *        *

His mind was connecting to the thoughts of a million different people all at the same time.  Visions of past and present flashed vividly before his mind's eye, coupled with the feelings and tension from everyone one of the people's lives.  Charles Xavier existed with these neural patterns and thought processes on a plane away from the rest of his conscious reality.  He was able to communicate with his machine, Cerebro, and locate, down to a specific house number, the mutant concerned.  Blurred images of passion, anguish and fury lurched to and fro in a swirling wave throughout his mind.  Charles blocked it all out, and focussed intensely on the character in front of him - a young, pale, Boston-born teenager, unhappy with his situation, and hiding from his capabilities.  This child would be a perfect candidate for the Institution's New Year induction programme.  Closing his eyes, Charles took off the helm, and placed it back onto the set.  He disengaged from the Cerebro computer, and wheeled himself around.  Tessa walked over to him, a form in one hand and a pen in the other.  'Did you find him again, Professor?'

He started out of the giant room, along a light-lit pathway.  'I found him – I want you to add his profile to the top of the chart, Tessa.  Could you tell me the top three candidates so far?'  The walked into the underground corridors and toward the lift.  Gun-metal grey walls reflected the echoing darkness throughout the passages.  'So far we've got: Drake, Pryde and Rasputin at the top.  When are we going to get a head on things?  It seems like we've kept ourselves undercover for too long now, Charles.'

He looked at her, considering his response.  'I'm waiting for one more mutant to join - a drifter that's recently been arrested in New York.  I'm confident she'll join; otherwise we'll start preparations for the new term.  Hopefully the children should fit right in with us without too many interrupts disturbing the people here already.  I don't want trouble for any of the new students before they're sufficiently prepared.'

The lift opened on the ground floor of the Mansion, and both occupants came out and into Charles' office.  'I don't need to remind you, Charles that this Mutant Registration Act is hanging on a knife edge – if there's one more terrorist performance in the heartlands of the U.S, it might tip the situation over into chaos.  It might mean more than just this suggested Act.'  Tessa sat in a leather chair, leafing through their documents.  She picked the three top ones out and laid them before him on a grand wooden desk.  'There you go.'  She got up and made to leave.

'I've got good expectations for our future prodigies.'  He answered.  Underneath his wise mask though, Charles Xavier was scared of the outcome.  Truly, the balance of the human-mutant conflict was able to be tipped in favour of ordinary people.  All it would take was one more radical mutant exposure, and then the hammer would fall.   

                                                *        *        *

'I'm sorry Miss, but this identification ain't quite right for what you wanna do here.  I'm afraid we can't really help you.'  The NYPD detective passed the wallet back to Jean, who paused temporarily, fingering it slightly.  She stood in front of a group of police detectives in the middle of the uptown New York stationhouse, her patience crumbling as the people around refused to submit to her psychic suggestions.  'I think you've got it wrong,' Jean replied, projecting herself into the heads of the people with more vigour.  'I'm not who you first thought I am – I'm Assistant D.A McClure – here to pick up a Ms. Munroe.  She was picked up for the wrong reasons.  She's not responsible for anything.'  The detective nodded feebly, then took out a cell key.  His eyes were dull and unresponsive.  

'There's been a mistake here, Ororo Munroe – seems like you've been picked up for the wrong charges.'  Jean said.  Her concentration was wavering slightly, so she turned the detective around and pushed him out of the door.  The woman in the cell stood, and undid a tie in her long white hair.  It cascaded over her shoulders as she strode smugly out of the cage.  'Yeah, I knew something was wrong – say; you don't exactly look like a district attorney.  What's going on?'

Jean decided to level with her.  'Here's the deal Ororo, I know about you – you've got special abilities in your blood, same as me – I'm here to get you out of this place and back to where I work:  Xavier's school for gifted youngsters.  It's a place where you can be accepted and looked after – your abilities trained and focussed and your lifestyle dramatically changed.  Take a look; there are no obligations, and you don't have to stay, but, if you want in, I suggest you make your mind up real soon, before I lose my nerve, and these cops get their minds together again.  If you don't want anything to do with us, say so, and you can stay in jail for the time being, drifting pointlessly from one place to the next.  You understand?'  Jean took several steps back from the cell and toward the door.  She took a look outside, checking for a clear path out of the stationhouse.  

Ororo replied quickly.  'I'm in – anything's better than what I've got going on right now.  I got my stuff, so we can get a move on.'  

Jean and Ororo walked passively from the room, and then hurriedly out of the police station, Jean freeing their minds only once they reached the end of the block.  'How come you found me, anyway?'  Ororo said, breathlessly, as they boarded the train from uptown New York to Westchester Country.  

'We've got a system that can locate people of our kind pretty quickly.  'Course, it can't tell us whether they're up for joining our dream, but I'm glad you were – made my trip out here worthwhile.'

'Yeah, well, I'm just gonna take a look, girl; can't commit myself to anything just yet.'  Ororo replied.

'See the institution first, before you decide that, my friend.  It changed my life completely.'  The train sped out of the city and through the suburbs toward their destination.

                                                *        *        *

In the heart of the Savage land, Magneto's proud fortress, Avalon, stood alone against a backdrop of lush jungle vistas and the Pacific Ocean's serene waters.  Composed of glistening, moulded metal on the natural rock face, it was a sight to behold in its magnificence.  Rogue and Wanda escorted the new stranger from his sanctuary across a lake, into the hall that overlooked the jungle.  Magneto was awaiting their arrival, dressed in his silk robes.  He pulled a chair from across the hall.  The stranger looked at him, then at Rogue, and sat in the chair.  Magneto dismissed his daughter and watched the stranger interact with Rogue silently.  He took her gloved hand carefully, but on a nod from her lord, she receded.  

'You have stayed in my care long enough, stranger.  I think your mask is trying my patience.'  He loomed closer.  'Tell me who you are, and how you came to be in the care of those human 'officials', and their interest in Homo Sapiens superior.'

The stranger looked blankly at his towering form for a second, and then leaned back into the chair.  'My name is Gambit.  I was picked up in Louisiana.  There were several men who ambushed me after I was caught stealing.  C'est ridiculous [_maintenant__ ma vie, it is getting a lot more complicated.]'_

'How come you never said anything like that to me?'  Rogue whispered, coming closer to him.  Magneto locked eyes once more with her, and she stepped back.  'What were they doing to you in the Salekhard installation?  Why were you there?'

Gambit stared out of the huge glass window overlooking the jungle.  Trees wavered idyllically in the wind.  The sounds of nature were present all around.  'I was there because they took me there.  I was out of the way, and no-one was gonna look fo' me.  I seen what you can do, Sir, and they chose me because of my abilities.  I can charge things I touch with energy – make 'em burn.  They wanted to know how I was a thief for special people also, but I told them they were wrong.  Those people, ils ne l'aiment pas, mon ami.'

'Will you tell me anything about what they did to you?'

'Why you wanna know, sir?'  He replied, tiredly.  Rogue took a step forward quickly. 

'Because you're under my care now, Gambit, along with everyone else here;' Magneto glided over to the colossal window overlooking his territory, and cast an open hand over the sight.  'I sincerely hope you will decide to stay with us and join my cause.  I will put a stop to the systematic atrocities affronting mutant kind on the face of the planet every day in every way.  I have power, and power over the world leaders.  Once they tip the balance in their favour, I, and everyone on our side will respond to free up the superior race.  If you're not by my side now, then you soon will, be it in the Savage land or be it anywhere else on God's Earth, my comrade.'

Gambit observed his justification with cynicism, but made an attempt to shield it.  He kept silent for a moment, leaving an air between the two.  'You want me to follow you?  I ain't never been no team player before.'

Magneto walked slowly over to Gambit, sitting in the metal chair.  He straightened his clothes, and then caressed the material of Gambit's robes.  'Think about it,' he smiled and walked off out of the hall 'but not too long.  For now you are a guest in my domain.'

Gambit stood up after his departure and switched to Rogue, who stared at him.  'He got me out of you than I did.'  She said, perching her hands atop the chair.  'Why didn't you say anything to me?'

'You not need my story to tell you 'bout me, chere.  My name is Remy LeBeau – I'm a Cajun, and I think I'll be stayin' here wi' you.  My life is too messy to want to catch up on.  This whole thing might give me a chance to start again.'  She took another few steps toward him.  'What did they try to do to you at that place – I was there, I saw most of the underground.'  

'The scientists there, they wanted me t' be some kind of ultimate warrior – figured if I could focus myself, I would do their dirty work.  I'm glad you got me out, chere; truly glad.  What's your real name?'

'Rogue, is all…'

'An' what's your deal?  Why are you in this?'

'I don't really want to talk about it.'  She replied, despondently. 

'Why?  We've all got things we want to hide from other people, and I understand, but at least tell me about yourself.'

'Ask me no questions, Remy - I'll tell you no lies...'  She hesitated for a second, but left him staring after her retreating form. 

                                                *        *        *

The danger room was part of the X Mansion's basement, having been incorporated for training protocol when the entire estate was under construction.  Capable of projecting life-size opponents and obstacles into a huge variety of locations, it created a formidable and deceptive learning tool.  Centred above the room, overlooking every proceeding within it, a control box contained Dr. Henry McCoy, who was busy pressing every button and flicking every switch in sight to combat his friends, working bellow.  The room was flooded in darkness, allowing only the luminous crimson light from flares positioned throughout the trenches to penetrate several feet ahead of them.  Scott and Warren ambled forward cautiously, wary of any activity coming from the sides of the trenches. 'What's our situation, Hank – we've gone this far without coming across the hostage.'  Scott whispered into his headset.  He kept a finger on the switch of his visor, ready to flick it open.  

'You're about forty feet ahead of the target' the microphone buzzed back.  'Make sure you're eyes are open for any non-combative units.'

They picked up the pace, reaching a crossroads in the shallow trench.  The two of them split up and went either way.  

Warren was the first to encounter resistance.  Several man-sized metal constructs appeared from the side.  They lurched toward him, but Warren's reactions outmanoeuvred their clumsy sensors.  His wings stretched, flexed and in one fluid motion, he shot upward and beyond their grasp.  Strings of gunfire laced back and forth above him, and he flew down behind the last construct, which was struck by the fire from the others.  It collapsed in a clatter, and he picked up a pipe from its wreckage, flying once more out of the way.  'Careful you don't get anything hit by those things.'  Hank echoed down the microphone.  He switched a button in the control room on, and several cameras zoomed in on Scott, running toward the noise.

Warren took hold of one of the red flares lining the ground, and jammed it in a groove of the largest construct.  Wielding the pipe viciously, he struck the area, and jumped out of the way as it burst in a spark of dazzling light.  A red beam shot across his bow, striking another construct as Scott joined the skirmish.  Amid the confusion Hank's voice was lost in the noise, and neither of the two teammates in the room noticed as their hostage target came running.  Mistaking her for another hostile, Scott blasted the image in half, switching the program off, and turning the lights in the room back on.  'Bad shot, Scotty.'  Hank said over the loudspeaker.  'Some news just in – the Professor is calling a meeting.  Get up to his office, and I'll see you both there.'  The voice flicked off, and Warren patted his teammate on the back.  'Look before you shoot next time, I guess.'

'It was too difficult with all the lights off; hopefully we won't have to encounter that kind of situation too often.  I'd like to think I wouldn't kill an innocent so easily in the future.'

The two young men walked into Xavier's large office in the Mansion and joined the rest of their friends around the new arrival.  An edgy, young, black woman stood before them, fidgeting idly with the pen holder on the Professor's desk.  He rolled his chair around to face the five students, all expectant.  Scott and Warren looked exhausted from their performance, and Jean was tired from the travel.  'This is Ms. Ororo Munroe.  Her name will be 'Storm'.  I want you to make her feel as welcome and free as you each did when you first arrived.  She has come from New York, and will be staying with us for the time being – is that right Ororo?'

She faced the five of them, and tucked her hands into the pockets of her worn jeans.  'Yeah; just until something better comes my way.  Hope to make myself useful.'

'Nothing better than this is coming your way, girl – I'll show you to your room.'  Jean said.  Ororo shook their hands, and gave one last look to Charles, before following her new friend up the stairs.

'Anybody want to say anything?'  Charles asked, placing the pen holder down on his grand desk.  'I'm hoping that some of you might be able to attend the Mutant Registration Act proposal with me tomorrow.  It's in Washington, and I'll need an escort; could be fascinating political material.'

'What's the deal with Ororo, then?  What's her power and where's she from?'  Scott said.

'She's got superb control over the atmospheric conditions in her area, so much so, that she can make it rain inside a building.  I found her once a strange report in the tabloids was published recently, and I followed it up.  It seems Ororo has been drifting from state to state, sometimes winding up in stationhouses for petty crimes and such.  I think we've received her at a pivotal point in her life.  Nurture for her now, will mean she could stay with us for quite some time.'  Charles started out of his office, and the students followed behind, Tessa collecting his papers before they left.

'I'm hoping that we will pick up several more new students before the new term can start – that way we can establish ourselves as more of a private school for anyone who wants to enquire about it.  So far I've located the top three potential candidates to join – two in the US and one in Russia.  Ororo will be the first of these new students.'  As Charles came to a stop in the middle of the lobby, they dissipated, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Ororo settled on her new bed, opposite Jean who opened the doors, draws and closets for her.  'And if you ever need to get out onto the balcony, there's a code for the windows which is the same in most rooms – it's 1234.  They have a panel on the outside too, so you can come back in if it gets locked.  I'm in the room next door, so give me a shout.'  She paused, watching the new intern.  'How are you holding up?'

'I guess it's a little fast.  Freaky for me, really; no-one's treated me this good in a long time.  I'm grateful, you know that.'  Ororo hugged her, and then set about to tend to her backpack.  'There are only a few of us here since the Professor set it all up, so don't be scared to talk to me, or Scott [_he's a great listener] – we're in this together.'  Jean was halfway out the door when Ororo spoke up.  'Will I ever have to risk my life for all this?'  _

'Sometimes it gets hazy in situations.  We've got your back, always.'  She left, closing the door.

Jean stepped down the stairs to find Charles at the bottom, awaiting her.  'I sensed discomfort from her at the start – especially when she came into the Mansion.'  He drove his chair back toward the office.  'Ororo has eased in since I spoke to her – your contribution is invaluable as well, Jean, and for that I can't thank you enough.'

Jean ran a hand through her short red hair and walked by his side.  'I sensed that too, Professor – it's clear from the surface her life to date hasn't exactly been a roller coaster ride.  She's got hope, though; hope and staying power.  I can feel that.'

'What's that saying?'  He asked.  'Plus ce change, plus ce même chose.  It will be the same story for every one of the new students.'

'[_The more things change the more they stay the same] – I hope you're right, sir.'_

                                                *        *        *

The centre of Washington D.C was overcrowded with humans and mutants alike, all anticipating the flurry of passion that would sweep the city and the rest of the world once the Mutant Registration Act was decided.  On Capital Hill was the magnificent centrepiece of American democracy that held Congress.  The steps were lined with bodyguards and security forces, keeping out the screaming and screeching protestors.  A select few were allowed to attend the discussion, and they were being ferried in a stream by more of the black suited bodyguards.  The last remaining politicians and congressmen entered the building from their refuge.  The riot barriers shook and trembled terribly as a fresh wave of passion passed through the crowds.

'…And these statistics from 1985 show exactly what this bill plans to establish – how many mutants are in the free world at this very time!  Nobody knows how many, or what abilities they have or whether they pose a threat to ordinary people…'  The speaker strode about the court area, suitably proud, and delivered his oration with strong belief.  '…Going back to the '92 incident, in which several Canadian civilians were crushed to death when a Brazilian-born mutant used his telepathy to squash the car trying to overtake him in a tunnel!  This kind of unchecked declaration of raw power is exactly why we need these people and their powers stamped down on, so that it will be possible to make life safe for the ordinary American as well as the ordinary mutant!  Such acts of violence and random exposure can lead to anti-mutant action, which is not the right way to go about dealing with such proceedings…'

At Charles' side sat Hank and Tessa, both discouraged by the deliveries and lectures being spewed out from either side of the political fence.  They sat uncomfortably, discussing each point made with as much fervour as the speaker.  Charles was more concerned with not what was in front of him, in the congress court, but with one man who stood alone by the court entrance; a man that Charles recognised from his past.  He sat still, watching this man for some time.

'…Of course, what this will mean for mutants everywhere is the systematic destruction of their privacy, and the revelation of every single detail of their lives.  Most mutants will clearly not want this uncovering of information to occur, especially for it to be common knowledge among people that have the power and inclination to abuse it.  Then, there is the actual accomplishment of the registration; although it becomes illegal to not alert officials to such facts, most mutants will surely not want to register themselves – and anyone who is adamantly refusing, well, surely you can all see the flaws in this logic…'

Charles watched until the man decided to turn his back on the discussion and leave.  Immediately, he started up the chair and quietly exited, leaving his reasons echoing in the minds of his two students.  He came down the corridor and called to the man.  'Erik – giving up on hope so soon?  You realise that the potential to strike a blow for mutantkind is present here today.'  Charles moved closer, and looked up into the face of his adversary.  

'Do you honestly believe that politically correct tripe, Charles?  They're all humorists, mouthing platitudes and invective proclamations alike, without a decent regard for the consequences of any of their actions.  How could an intelligent being, such as yourself, be deceived into considering they could provide a difference in the world we live in today?  It's remarkable how gullible you are, still.'

'Don't insult me, Erik – society is becoming more and more open every day – we may not have been able to cause a storm when we went around asserting our way of life all those years ago, but people change and become more advanced.' 

'And we are those people, Xavier.  We are the ones that became more advanced, and evolved for the better.  I should think you might be going senile if you continue to put your faith in the same people that grew up hating our kind.'  He replied.  'Once this bill passes, and we're oppressed to the point of rebellion, every mutant on the face of the planet will come to me and my cause; and as a saviour, I shall rise above the dictators of this world to lead the better race.  I won't allow anyone to stand in my way – not this government, not the world, not even you, Charles.'

'Are you sure you want to do that, Erik – the road to hell is paved with good intentions.'

He pointed to his head.  'Don't try to fool me up here, old friend.  You'll understand once this President proclaims new laws and acts to crush mutants.'

'You're making a mistake if you believe that, Erik.'

'I am making no mistake – now leave me alone!'  He raised his hand, and crumpled the metal in the wheels of Xavier's chair, leaving it dulled.  He marched out of the corridor and away from the building.

Tessa rounded the corner at a hurried pace and caught the Charles struggling with his chair.  'What happened?'  She asked, concerned.

'I had a run-in with an old opponent.  How is the Act going?'

'I think we've lost the fight, Professor.'

                                                *        *        *

Nearly a fortnight after the Mutant Registration Act was passed by Congress; the world was still in uproar over its ultimatum.  Mutants in several key locations in every state had publicly demonstrated, calling for immediate reform or dissolution.  Riots from mutant sympathisers took place in New York, San Francisco, Los Angeles and Quebec in Canada.  While the wound was still open, Xavier insisted any exposure from his students would increase the tension within the U.S limitless times.  They stayed in the Mansion most of the time, resting and training, while Xavier planned their moves for collecting the new students.

At around the same time, the President of the United States was returning from international affairs in Europe.  His Leer Jet landed at JFK airport in Dallas, Texas, and he was scheduled to be paraded through the city whilst visiting relatives in the State.  Preparations were made on the eve of the day, allowing for no errors once he was to travel in an open top limousine with his wife.  His path along the streets was planned, and bodyguards lined the area, securing it beforehand.

Jamison Atkins, the black-suited bodyguard on the left side of the limo jogged alongside, as the President and his wife waved heartily to the crowds of supporters come to witness the main occasion.  He smiled admirably at the people, wishing them well, and calling out loving sentiments as the limo cruised by on the sunny afternoon.  Not a cloud appeared in the blue sky, save for the murky, oily smog that lined the atmosphere over the city.  It reflected the heat, stiflingly.  

A boarded-up window in the Texas Book Depository building on the main path cracked slightly as it was forced open from the inside by the butt of a metal pipe.  The window resisted two more swipes, and then caved with a clatter.  A woman leaned out into the light of the window slowly, watching the street below, and analysing her arena.  The bodyguards sweated and struggled along, keeping with the pace of the open top limousine.  She leaned further out of the window, closely observing the details of the vehicle as her main target.  The President waved in her direction without noticing the threat from several floors above, in the retired and historical building.  The passengers in the seats, the directions and paths of the nearest roads and the wind in the air were all factors in her mind.  It strengthened her resolve; to know that this was the same man who would aid the destruction of an entire race.  The President's limousine passed into the centre view, through the milling crowds of people and beyond.  She had wasted too much time, focussing on her determination, and now it was out of plausible range.  Cursing herself mentally, she ran through to the room opposite in the worn out building and blew open the boarded window with a colossal sounding shatter.  There was a split-second of hesitation outside as the bodyguards registered the explosion, and then they reacted, jumping atop the limo as the president was thrust under cover.  Atkins looked to the sound of the explosion, and pulled his Glock 17 from under his blazer.  

The woman concentrated from the window, pulling power from deep within her soul.  She pulled the splinters from the window up, off the ground, and forced them down towards the limo.  They peppered the back of the car liberally, sticking cruelly from the back of the bodyguard protecting the President.  Registering the casualty, the driver in the vehicle speed it up.  Screams and cries of terror radiated throughout the streets, as the woman used more of the wreckage, and flung it towards the President himself.  Shots were fired, but ricocheted ineffectively off the side of building, as she retracted and hid behind the walls.  Atkins swivelled about to the sound of a new threat from the other side of the street.

From behind a picket fence, another attacker stood and unleashed a bolt from his hands straight through the limousine bonnet, shattering it in a cloud of sparks.  The driver's body slumped lifelessly against the wheel as it skidded slowly into the curb.  Supporters screeched and scattered, the rest of the bodyguards spinning around to combat the new threat.  The new attacker flung several more bolts of energy towards them, skewering each against the far wall in a shower of blood and dust.  Atkins pulled off several shots at the grassy knoll, dotting the fence, before a sharp pain seared over his left shoulder, and he crumpled pathetically to the floor, a large splinter embedded in his flesh.  The attacker on the grassy knoll leapt over the picketed fence, and shot a few more bolts at the limousine, igniting it with a spectacular plume of flame.  He staggered and spun as the bullets hit home, and finally lay on the ground, bleeding out.  

From within the Book Depository, the woman was surprised abruptly when Atkins rushed into the room, his shoulder leaking viciously.  She stopped, and watched him.  He pulled out his pistol once more, and she flashed the metal pipe, knocking the gun out of his hands.  She grappled with him momentarily, and then used her mind to throw him further into the room.  She dashed out, but was hit in the back by the last shot from Atkins' gun.  The bodyguard slumped in the direction of her escape, and he holstered his gun, crawling down the steps of the crumbling depository.  Sharp jolts of fire burned up and down his back, the wooden splinter caught in his shoulder.

She burst out of the back door, staggering blindly in her panic.  Smoke billowed from over the wreckage of the limousine.  She dashed out into the main street to confirm her target's destruction, but attracted too much attention from the President's men, bleeding over her jacket.  They surrounded her, pulling guns and screaming threats in their wrath.  She pulled the parts and pieces of debris and waste into the air, and spun them around her, orbiting the area.  The pieces smashed into the sides of each guard knocking and stabbing as they circled her body.  She lifted the ambulance opposite them onto the burnt-out limo, crushing it.  The last few bystanders fled while the emergency vehicle went up in flames.  She flung the remaining bodyguards out of her way, and ran down the street, the debris orbiting her closely.


	3. tell me you're a politik

Writer: Rowland Wells

_Disclaimer:  I am in no way any part of Marvel Comics or any affiliation of their enterprise.  I do not own the X-Men or any Marvel Characters.  _

Alternate 

X-Men

#02

"tell me you're a politik"

Remy walked the hallways of Magneto's home looking for Rogue.  On one side lay the reflecting silvery walls of the fortress and on the other were the huge glass windows looking out onto the wild beauty of the Savage land, and its eerie jungle vistas.  The sun was peeking over the horizon, radiating pink pre-dawn light into the air.  Remy skulked quietly until he came to her room.  She sat on her bed, downhearted, reading a tattered book.  There was a knock at her door, and she looked up.  

'Can I come in?'  He asked, tying the dressing gown tighter around his waist.

'Sure.'

'You've made this place look nice - homely.'  He remarked.  'You see my room, s'all bare an' cold.'

She placed the book back onto a table and sat on the side of the bed, next to him.  'I didn't mean to blow you off like that, before.  It's not something I like to talk about.  My past is troubled, and I'm not ready to reveal it to anyone; not even Magneto, who was good enough to take me in without asking questions.'

'I didn't mean t' pry.'  He said, resting a hand on one shoulder.  He stroked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear.  'I just wanna know the girl who was so good t' me when I got here.'  They stared at each other momentarily, but were interrupted as Pietro leaned in the door.

'Father wants to call a little gathering, you two, so you better meet him out in the gardens in five minutes.  Don't be late, or he'll blame me.'  As quick as he arrived, he speed off, leaving them alone once more.  

'I guess we better go, then.'  Rogue said, separating the two of them.  She pulled a jumper over her head, and left the room.  Remy sat still, and gazed out of the huge windows by himself.

                                                *        *        *

The war room in the X Mansion's basement was animated early in the morning, with live feed from cameras and news broadcasts all busy publicising the recent incident in the centre of Dallas.  The President of the United States had been assassinated along with his wife and several bodyguards while driving through the city.  One of the attackers was shot dead at the scene, but the other fled, and managed to evade the authorities.  The whir of machinery sparked up, blinking a three-dimensional vector graphic map of the street where the President was killed.  It flashed points over the area, highlighting the casualties and survivors, and then projected annotated boxes, as Hank typed in the commentary for the other X-Men to see.  'This is the start of something big – as long as the U.S has no President, there is no official confirmation on anything that gets run past the cabinet.'  Jean explained.  'That means that whoever comes up with any new projects, schemes, and personal assignments can have them simply signed off by someone who doesn't actually speak for the country.  Anything could be past by corrupt officials, people who are being influenced, or anyone with a personal vendetta to settle.  Now that the President has been killed, not to mention his wife and several others, by a mutant, you can bet that someone's got some plans in store for our minority.'

Addressing the people around him, Charles spoke.  'Although I considered myself not quite as cynical as Jean, there will be consequences for actions – cause and effect – I think something very bad is about to happen.'

Hank scratched his head, pulling up several photographs on the war room screens for the others to look at.  'These are some of the pictures taken from the crime scene afterwards – and one from the morgue of a security man stuck with hundreds of pin pricks over his back.  There's someone dangerous on the loose that could do this.  So far, the Professor and I have tracked the mutant's movements with Cerebro, all the way to Boston.  She seems to have telekinesis of sorts, capable of gravitating and asserting pressure on certain surfaces.'

'I want you, my X-Men to fly to Boston and capture this assassin.  Hold her until the authorities have been alerted, and wait for them to pick her up.'  He paused, observing his students acutely.  'This is a difficult decision for some of you to make, and what with the recent commotion over the tragedy in Dallas, there could well be resistance from human intervention.  I don't want to pressure any of you, but I'm sure there's no other way this mutant is going to be brought to justice for her crime.'

Hank curved around from the bank of computers.  'I'll go, but you knew I would, sir.'

Scott and Jean stepped forward, and finally Ororo.  Charles smiled, and spoke to Warren who was left sitting in a swivel chair.  'I'll need someone to come with me as I'm going too, but only to try to collect another new student.'  Warren nodded, understanding, and left the room to go with Charles.  

'So what's the deal here, then, we just gonna jump into Boston and start a fight with this woman?'  Ororo asked.

'We'll have to land near enough her present location, which I'll be monitoring with the computers, and then we confront and immobilise the target.'  Hank replied.  He brought up a map of Boston, which was on a much larger scale than the one before.  It zoomed in on a point – a chain of abandoned houses on a city block that relatively few people lived around.  A minute image of the Blackbird, the Mansion's private stealth jet blipped elegantly across the map, and landed behind the chain of houses, shielding itself from appearance outside.  'That's where we'll be going, so get any gear you want and make sure you're ready for this.'  Scott stated.  He tapped on the table and clicked the screen off.  

                                                *        *        *

The blonde bubble of a secretary popped in through the door of the Vice President's office, a stack of documents in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.  She laid the cup down on the desk.  'There's a Mr. Hawk Spaskyich here to speak with you, Sir, he says it's very important.'  Vice President Dwight Jackson leaned over to one side of his overly large wooden desk to see a familiar face that echoed back the enthusiasm he was presenting.  The secretary left the room, closing the door behind her.  An awkward silence ensued, but was finally broken as Jackson sipped at his black coffee.  The man opposite wore a finely cleaned suit, and a tie that didn't suit the way his face was structured.  It contrasted badly with the permanent leer etched across his face.  'Aren't you glad to see me once more, Dwight?  I should think after all these little visits we've had going on, you'd learn to love me, and just like the rest of this Government I've spoken too.'  He pulled up a chair without asking, and sat in it, placing his briefcase on the desk, on top of the papers.  'I heard about our leader,' he continued.  'What a cryin' shame that was – such a PC, straight-up guy he was – waving to all those people; unlucky way to go, being bumped off by a mutie too.  Still, there are worse things that coulda happened to him.'

Jackson folded his arms, observing the briefcase, and listening.  'What do you want now?'  He demanded.

'Well, in spite of all this trouble with them nowadays, you still can't keep a good mutant down, can ya?  I'm lookin' to start the go-ahead for enforced Mutant Registration, instead of letting the bastards volunteer to be tagged.  I've got people working for me already who have the equipment, the time and the money – all I need is your final word on the subject, so that I can green-light everything.'

The Vice President stayed quiet, while Spaskyich stared him in the eyes, confrontationally.  'Tell me you're still a politician, Jackson.  Tell me you still succumb to the needs of an everyday man?  Tell me you don't think this problem of ours is just gonna go away?'  He stood up, and strolled over to the window, glancing outside at the gardens, and buildings in the distance.  

'You're a sinister character, Spaskyich, and I think whatever you've got in mind for the future of America stinks.'

He interrupted the Vice President in mid-speech.  'So you're not going to say 'YES' to me, Dwight?'

'I don't think I'll be letting you 'force' mutants to register.  They already are required too – anyone who slips through the fence will have the police on him.'

'I'll be using special services called 'Sentinels' to provide the public with safety, Dwight, nothing menacing.  You are concerned with safety, aren't you, Dwight?  Public Safety?  I think once I've got these people out on the streets, you'll be thankin' my efforts.'  He sat back in the leather chair.  'Look in the briefcase, for God's sake.'  Jackson took hold and opened it, leafing through the papers to the prize underneath.  'I've already got more than half the Presidential cabinet on my side, Jackson – people I know, and can trust.  They're with me, and you better be with me as well.'

'What are you going to do?'

Hawk Spaskyich grabbed the briefcase from out of his hands, and closed it.  'Nothing that hasn't been considered before – only with the backing of the public, due to this 'saint's' attack on the President, the whole project will come to life, finally.  If you want this,' he tapped the case.  'Come to the usual place tonight, at ten thirty.  Someone will be there to give it to you.'

He was about to open the door, when Jackson shouted back.  'Just because they did something wrong, doesn't make what you're about to do that much the righter!'

'Keep your voice down, for chrissakes – someone might hear _that_.'  He left the room, grinning to himself.

The secretary bounded in through the door again, another stack of files and folders under her arm.  'Are you okay, Mr Jackson, sir; hopefully nothing another coffee won't cure?'

'Yes I'm alright, just a bit stressed over this whole ordeal.  I wonder if we'll ever reach the other side without resorting to killing each other in the process.'

'Are you talking about the mutant and human situation, sir?  I don't really know anything about it…'

He stared up at her, as if plucked out of a daydream.  'That will be all, thanks.  Perhaps I just need a rest.'

She closed the thick door behind her.

The buzz of an insect suddenly aggravated him intensely, and Jackson looked at the window, unsure of how to react.  He registered a miniature incision in one of the panes, but he became incredibly woozy, and couldn't resist the urge to sit down.  Wondering, hazily, what had stung him, his fingers came away with a trickle of crimson, and the stark truth hit him.  Jackson struggled slightly, and then he died.  

                                                *        *        *

The Blackbird flew over the Boston skyline relatively quietly, at early in the morning.  Its sleek design prevented detection from air bases and control towers piloting planes in the city.  Having already dropped Xavier and Warren off at a point in the city's residential areas, they were on a course to locate the mutant assassin, who currently hid out in a chain of several abandoned houses on the other side of the city.  On board the jet, Hank sat at the controls once more, directing the aircraft with ease.  Behind him sat Ororo, who was staring out the windows, alone in her thoughts.  Scott sat behind, talking to Jean.  He leaned across the space between their two seats.  

'I'm sorry I haven't had much of chance to talk to you recently.'  He said.  'There's just been a lot to do; and these new kids are going to make it that much harder to have any free time at the Mansion.  Sometimes I just need a time out.'

'It's all right, Scott – we've been under strain.  Besides, we can always talk about stuff.  It's us, you know?'

'Yeah – I just thought I might have been neglecting you.  I wouldn't want that.'

'Don't worry.'  She replied.  They paused for a moment, feeling the inertia of the craft as it slowed all of a sudden.  Hank shouted down the cabin.  'We've got her location on the map.  Seems like we came at just the right time – she's on the go.'

Scott leaned over to her once more.  'You ready for this, Jean?'

She nodded, and unstrapped the belt buckle.  

The Blackbird hovered briefly over the crumbling houses, and then landed in the gardens, crushing several fence lines.  The ramp descended, and all four of them came out.  'What now?  We gonna go on a bug hunt for this girl?'  Ororo asked.  She walked over to the back door of the house in front, and pulled it open.  'I don't think anyone lives here – she's probably escaped on foot through some tunnels, or something.'

Jean reached out with her mind, trying to locate the presence of the individual telepathically.  Something blocked her thoughts, and she recoiled.  In doing so, the assassin revealed herself, and Jean yelled to them.  'She's out in the open – go through the house and she'll be running down the road!'  Hank burst through the rooms with the others in pursuit.  The front door splintered open, and they saw the assassin hurtling down the street.  Ororo jumped down the flight of steps and summoned a lightening bolt, which struck the concrete just in front of the woman.  She screamed and was tossed away onto her back.  Hank rushed over to her, but she threw him out of her way.  She formed a shield of sorts around her body, and Scott's blast from his eyes bounced harmlessly off it.  He ran toward the assassin, firing from the visor as he went.  'Jean!'  He shouted, while pursuing the woman.  'Break down her barrier!'  

Concentrating, Jean dissolved the shield, as Ororo took control of the wind, and sent the woman flying into the side of a parked truck.  She crumpled against the metal, and tried to stand.  Scott took out his cell phone and started to dial for the police to collect their target.  Hank grappled with her for a second, but was thrown off again with a strike from her mind.

From behind the row of abandoned houses, a colossal metal construct stamped toward the skirmishing mutants.  It raised its hand, opening an eye in its palm.  The assassin caught sight of the Sentinel, and stunned, she stood petrified.  In the same instant, a bright orange beam struck her body, and she screamed as her flesh was consumed in fire.  Horrified, the X-Men turned to watch as this giant machine moved its arm toward them.  The remains of the assassin perished into dust.  No blood or guts were left, only grain to feed the insects and soil.  'Jesus, Scott, what is this?'  Jean cried; but she barely had time to react before the same orange beam engulfed her.  She erected a psionic barrier to protect herself, but the force drained her to the point of exhaustion.  Scott panicked, and ran forward to let loose the beam from his visor.  It careered over the shoulder of the metal beast, blowing away the outer layer, and sawing the arm in two.  A thundering crash echoed down the street as a forearm, the size of a car, smashed into the concrete road.  Jean collapsed under the strain, and fell back into the arms of Ororo.  

The Sentinel, as if waiting for a response, raised its remaining arm to the creatures on the ground.  Waked from a trance, Hank leapt toward the construct's leg.  It tried to stamp on him, but with an enormous effort, he took hold of the foot, and toppled it.  The Sentinel registered other mutant presences in the area before it dropped backwards onto the roof of another house.  Its fire beam was thrown into the air, and coursed over to the other side of houses, blowing holes in each.  A companion Sentinel staggered from the other direction, as big as a three story building.  Its voice bellowed out, but they were too frightened to register its call.  'Look, there's another one!'  Scott shouted.  'Lets get the hell out of here – we can't afford to fight once more!'  Ororo called down a thick fog from the atmosphere, which separated them from the threat.  The shifting fog revealed parts of the construct in disturbing accuracy as its shadow fell upon them.  Like a robot, it paused, and then raised the hands to sky to fire off the orange flares.  The ground rumbled and shook, as it stepped through the dispersing fog.  Retreating, Scott fired off several more shots which struck the Sentinel in the breastplate.  'It's too heavily armoured for my blasts – we can't take this on again.'  As they were fleeing the scene, a helicopter came into view, landing in the middle of the street, opposite the collapsed construct.  Magneto walked out, followed by his Acolytes.  They ran down the road, and started to attack the new threat.

Out of the corner of her eye, Jean saw the new arrivals, and twisted out of Ororo's grasp to observe.  'Scott, Hank – who's that?'

Cortez pulled out his weapon, and fired at the head of the Sentinel while Delgado grabbed hold of the legs.  His body mass almost doubled in front of them, and he heaved them up with an almighty strength.  The other two ran to the side and waited for the machine to fall.  

'They're mutants, like us!'  Jean exclaimed.  She ran over to Magneto, who was waiting for her.  

'Who are you?  Scott asked.  An explosion sounded, and the Sentinel burst open in a shower of sparks.  They cheered mightily, and Magneto looked at the X-Men in distaste.  'You're Charles' lackeys, aren't you?  Trying to combat human aggression devices with peace – how readily do you think humans understand us?  Not very, it seems.'

'You're saying this was an act from mutant haters?  How would anyone gain enough money to create such a monstrosity and why would they go to such lengths to do so?'  Hank asked.  He watched as Magneto's face corroded into a cruel leer.  'This is an act of congress and the Government – exactly like the Mutant Registration Act!  No wonder you children don't understand how the world works.  You're too full of hope and good intensions.'

'Sir,' Anne Marie asked.  'You better see this for yourself.  We're too late – she must have been killed by the Sentinels.  Perhaps she might not have wanted to team up with us, sir.'

Magneto surveyed the ashes of the assassin, scattering in the wind into a black dust.  Police sirens sounded off in the distance.  

'That's the woman we tracked – she killed the President.'  Ororo stated.  'I guess she got what she deserved.'

Magneto motioned his four Acolytes back to the Helicopter.  'That woman was a sinner and a saint – she struck a blow for Mutantkind, but in doing so, has caused the eradication of half of its population.  I find your lack of sympathy for her disturbing.'

Hank stepped in front of the others, protecting them.  'She was a casualty of war?  Who are you to judge such things?  We don't even know whether these mechanical monsters are the product of a Government project or not.  I sincerely doubt that they are – who would have a scheme supervised that allows the destruction of a country's population?'

'The same people that allow for wars to be waged in other countries all over the world,' He answered 'that are based primarily on discrimination and hatred!  You should understand that a new age of war and democracy is coming, and to withstand the tidal wave, you'll have to rise above the petty ambitions of a few twisted human individuals that would rather have us swept away by the flood.  We're not a minority that will succumb to this discrimination any longer.  These Sentinels are the last effort to contain us.  And they haven't worked.'  He turned his back on them, and made for the helicopter.  Its rotor blades whirred into life.  

'How can you say that about the world you live in?  Those wars were waged to benefit people who had been oppressed.  Discrimination was never a part of it.'  Jean replied, angrily.

'The time has come for the governments of the world to wage a war on the people in their own boundaries.  We are those people, and if you're not prepared to accept that, then you will soon be forced too.'

They watched him enter the helicopter, and he left them standing in the street, alone, amid the wreckage.

As the police cars pulled up alongside the broken hollows of the Sentinels, the four students departed.  

                                                *        *        *

Waiting out in the middle of the street at nine o'clock in the morning, Warren wondered whether this was the best place for him to be seen.  He resembled a rather shady character, wearing a large leather jacket to conceal his wings underneath.  A thought struck him as he heard police sirens blaring in the distance, but was quickly quelled by Charles, who talked to him telepathically.  * Don't worry about the others, Warren – they can take care of themselves.  Right now, we are here to find the Drake boy, and bring him back with us.  You won't seem suspicious unless you think that you're trying to hide something – stay with me. *

The front door opened, and a mother stood with her mail in hand.  

'My name is Professor Charles Xavier, Mrs Drake, and I'm here to talk to you about your son, Robert.'

                                                *        *        *

The father, mother and son sat around the dining room table, listening to the visitor explain Robert's situation to them.  Warren stood by the door, acting as the Professor's bodyguard.  

'I hope I would not be talking out of line if I was to say that your son's grades are suffering slightly this year, and you don't know why exactly.  Is that right?'

Mr Drake replied.  'Yes, I suppose it is – how do you know?  You say that you're not from the school, or even from the board of education, so…'

'And would I be right in saying that your son has seemed slightly despondent and detached from you for a while now, almost the same amount of time?  Charles asked them.

'Yes – he had a rather unfortunate incident a while back where he said that the pressure of work had gotten to be too much.'  Mrs Drake replied.  She was about to continue, but Mr Drake interrupted her.

'Listen, what is this about?  What exactly do you want with Bobby?'  He pointed to Warren.  'Who are you?'

'My name is Warren Worthington – I work at the Professor's school.  I'm an Economics and Business Studies teacher.'  He replied.

'My school is located in the North of New York, in Salem Center, Westchester Country.  It's Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, and there we give a rather thorough and well-rounded education to every person that attends.'  Charles considered using his mind on the parents to help his cause, but he resisted for the moment.  'We have extremely useful facilities, and help to steer whatever course of education the pupils want to pursue; here's a brochure.'

'Wait a second – look, this is ridiculous, we don't even live within travelling distance of Salem, Bobby's got friends at school, and besides, I bet the cost is through the roof.  I don't think so, Professor Xavier.  Whatever you're selling, I don't think we want it.'  Mr Drake stood up, and prepared to show them the door.  Charles concentrated on Bobby, though, and said: 'would it be alright, if I were to have a chat with your son, first, Mr and Mrs Drake?'

'No, now come on – he's got work to do.'

'Dad, give me a break – I'd like to make my own decision about this.'  Bobby said.  Mr Drake sighed.  'How long?'  He asked bluntly.

'Not long – I just want Bobby to understand what we're offering for his benefit.'

                                                *        *        *

'Do you know there are two kinds of people in the world Bobby?'  Charles asked, sipping at his coffee.

'Whaddya mean?'

'There are people who are special in one way or another, and then there are people who are just regular, like your parents.'

'My parents aren't very regular – they don't understand me at all.  They think I can't work properly because I never set my mind to it.  The only reason I've stayed afloat at school is because I work my ass off.'

'Then why were you receiving below average grades all last year?'

'I had problems with stuff, you know.'  His head sank slightly, and his voice lowered.

'Troubles which only teenagers know about?'  Xavier asked, even though he knew the answer.  He was trying to ease Bobby into the conversation, without scaring the boy.  

'Yeah – girls, work, that sort of thing.'

'Could it also have been because you were different in some way?  Changes in the body came on a little too much in you, unlike everyone else.  Does that sound familiar, Bobby?'

'I don't know what you mean – listen, I'm okay at school, and I ain't doing too bad, so maybe this was a mistake…'

'Mutants.  You know about them, don't you?'  Bobby didn't say anything, but his face lit up slightly.  'Mutants are the product of key environmental and physiological changes in your genetic heritage.  A sequence of DNA has been constructed on a chromosome, creating the X Gene, which accounts for the results of whatever mutation occurs in a person.  A lot of time and money has been spent on trying to determine why mutants are the way they are.  Scientists in those fields can only determine that the mutation is determined by the brain, because nearly everything else in the human body is understood.  I don't pretend to understand the biology of it all; Bobby, but I understand mutants themselves.  I'm pretty sure you have something you might want to say to me now.'

'I'm a mutant.  I've known for a while now.  It started about a year ago, and has gotten a lot more intense since then.'

'Are you ashamed of it, Bobby?'  Charles asked, staring into the boy's eyes.

'I was at first – but there's nothing I can do about it.  What can you tell me?'

'I can tell you that no matter what kind of ability you have, you are always welcome to my school as long as you have an interest in developing those skills.'

'I hear about these mutants on television – like the ones that are supposed to have killed the President – aren't you all hated?'

'Many mutants are, but there are also mutants who would use their powers for good, the way the police force does.  Some might hide, whereas some would come out into the light and be recognised.  Do you want to be one of the mutants that would use his powers for good?'  Charles asked him.

'Yes.'

'_Make me believe you_.'  He replied.

Bobby stared at him for a while, considering his options.  He looked out the dining room door, where his parents had gone.  'You want me to move into your school?  But my family don't even know about me.'

'I'll leave you with this telephone number – contact me personally on this one to talk.  I'll be giving your parents a different one so that they can think you'd be going to an ordinary school.  The brochure they have – everything in that is real.  You'll be with people like you, Bobby.'

'Warren – you like it there?'  He asked.

'It's worth a look just to make sure.  I'm glad I decided on it.'  Warren replied, smiling proudly to him.

'Are you a mutant too then?'  

'Yes – I can fly.'

'Just… like that?'

'I have two large feathered wings, Bobby.  They can be a hassle, but I've learned to accept that fact.'  Warren took off his large leather jacket, revealing his wings sticking out of his back.  They stretched out, but he put the jacket back on before anyone should see.

'You sure are persuasive, Professor.  I'll give you a call.'  Bobby said.  They walked out of his house, and he closed the door and rushed to talk to his parents.

                                                *        *        *

Cortez strutted angrily around the floor of Magneto's chamber.  He was busy healing the cuts and scrapes on his body before his lord entered.  Cortez stopped and came over to where he sat, tiredly.  'The children you spoke to were arrogant, my lord – let it not bother you.  They don't understand the way the world works.  They see it through rose coloured glasses – let it be their mistake to believe in the promises of empty, hateful politicians and leaders.'  Magneto looked at his servant wearily.  His conviction and loyalty was boundless.  He was a true believer in the cause.  The lord stared out of the windows at his domain, the moon settling early in the evening sky.  Whistles and clicks from nature sifted through the fortress, and blew the silken blinds lazily across the entrance to his chamber.  'We shall deal with them in our own way, lord?'  Cortez suggested.  

'I don't want the students gotten rid of.  If they could only be taught the truth, instead of all that political nonsense that Charles has injected them with.'  

Cortez kneeled by his master's side.  'They don't realise, lord, that there is only room for one vision for our future in this world – your vision.  The two ideals cannot coexist; one can only prevail through the total elimination of the other.  They need to know that you are our lord, Magneto, and you must inherit our race.  The changes you speak of are resumption of your true destiny as the leader of mutantkind.  That, Xavier and his students will never allow.'

'They'll understand soon enough, Fabian.  I've sent someone to deal with Charles in their own way.'

                                                *        *        *

Once back at the Mansion safely, Jean was in the recovery room in the basement, tending to a rather large cut in her side.  She peeled away the gauze, and touched at the scraped flesh.  Her instinct was to leave it alone, but she picked up a small syringe, and gingerly stuck the point just above the cut, injecting the contents.  Biting her lip, she drew a drop of blood.  Scott came in to see her.  He caught site of her without her shirt, and watched as she took the needle out, and reattached the small bandages.  She placed it back down on the medical tray, and then straightened her back, putting her shirt back on.  He saw her profile, and smiled to himself.  'Hi Scott' she said, without turning 'what's up?  Speak with the Professor yet?'

'No… just wanted to check you were okay.  I didn't realise you were hurt – you seemed to be okay when you were talking with that guy.  Who is he, I wonder?'

'Beats me, but there was something bizarre about him – however hard I tried, I couldn't read anything from the surface of his mind.  It was the strangest thing.  Guess we'll have to ask Xavier about it.  What did you want?'  She smiled to him innocently.

'You know, just to catch up on things.  That was some trouble we came across today.  I've never seen anything like it before; what happened to that woman, Jesus, but that was scary.'

She frowned, putting the needle in the waste bin, and placing the tray back among the stacks.  'We're living in some real times now, Scott.  We're going to have to be careful if we want to come out on top.  Government project or not, the whole thing's sick, and I'm scared for our kind.'

He put his arms around her, comfortingly.

They were broken from their reverie by a red alarm in the corner of the ceiling blinking, brightly.  'What now?'

Jumping over the high brick wall, a shadow blended in perfectly with the surrounding vegetation, all bathed in the perennial twilight darkness of the night.  He held his nose to the night air, sniffing slightly, and then descended to the earth, crawling, as a turret shot out of the ground behind a bush, and shot several slugs in his direction.  He dodged one way, then another, and halved the turret in two perfectly.  He grunted in disapproval, and continued toward the large Mansion, parallel to the stony path.  Cameras high in the branches of the trees lining the brick wall picked up his movement before he had a chance to hide.  A claxon sounded somewhere behind him, and the stranger dashed ahead, slicing a wire-thin electric fence as he went.  Several more turrets jumped out of the ground, and fired at him, but he was out of sight before the bullets could hit.  He leapt over more bushes, and finally came up to the front of the Mansion.  An Ultra Violet lamp illuminated the whites in his attire, but he didn't run.  A red beam shot across his bow, and he bounded out of the way, only to find that he couldn't move properly.  He stopped struggling, and Jean placed his body under his will once more.  The stranger retracted his claws into his hands and stood still.

Charles came out and stood between Jean and Scott, both guarding their prisoner.  'State your name and business, stranger.  I'm not a fan of people breaking in and entering my property.'

The stranger spoke up.  'Don't get angry, pal, I was jus' wondering whether there was any room at the inn for me.'

'What's your name and why did you break in?'

'I jumped over the fence, 'cos nobody was answering at the gate.  Intercom must be broken, or somethin'.  My name's Logan and I want in on your little thing you got going here, Charlie.'


	4. no embraces

Writer: Rowland Wells

_Disclaimer:  I am in no way any part of Marvel Comics or any affiliation of their enterprise.  I do not own the X-Men or any Marvel Characters.  _

Alternate 

X-Men 

#03

"no embraces"

The garden outside was far too quiet for Logan's sensitive ears.  Nothing in the air suggested that his position had been given away, but as a breeze blew the wind across his face, he picked up on the smells and tastes of the fellow students hunting him in the arena.  The sun was shining gloriously, casting shadows over the grass and trees, and the birds were chirping, full of life and energy.  Logan's ears pricked up, and he twirled around, slicing through Hank, as the X-Man was about to pounce.  The claws cut deep into his flesh, and Hank dropped lifelessly to the ground.  Logan rolled over, and jumped past Hank's body as a red blast burst across his front.  He bounced off the bark of a tree trunk, and skidded into Scott's view, drawing his blades across his teammate's chest.  He was thrown backwards, and slammed to the ground as Jean stepped out from behind a wall.  She elevated him into the air helplessly using her powers, but Logan reacted rapidly, cutting through a large tree branch, which collapsed on top of her.  She was pinned to the floor, and Logan dropped, landing on his feet.  He spun around, and kicked Tessa to the floor, stamping on, and then cracking her neck.  He spat at Jean, who was struggling for her life, but extended his six claws into her face.

Warren's voice filtered through on the com, and he deactivated the danger room simulation.  'I think that's enough for today.'  He trailed off, and glanced at Logan taking the headset off, shocked.  'I haven't seen anyone dispatch the sims that easily before.  It's really quite disturbing – where did you say you trained?'  Logan hopped over the rails, a crude leer still stuck on his lined face.  'I didn't.'

Warren nodded, uncomfortably, glad that his own sim wasn't on the danger room programmes yet.  'You… you're going to be a fine addition to the team.'

'Thanks, Wings.  I'll let Charlie know how I did, eh?  Old guy looks like he could use some good news.'  He strutted out of the room, and into the rest of the Mansion.

                                                *        *        *

Charles Xavier sat in the middle of his finely furnished office, pouring relentlessly over the documents, files and newspaper articles relating to the recent Sentinel activity occurring all over the country.  A log fire burned weakly, spluttering warm ashes every so often, and keeping the room warm for him to stay comfortable in.  His grand desk was filled with bits of cut-outs, magazines and other riff-raff that focussed on the new hazard to Mutantkind.  Colossal walking robotic units, at least the height of a house, were being developed and bred by a secret United States Government project specifically for the purpose of combating what was identified as the mutant threat to the country.  His eyes perused each column of information, scanning it to locate any more information on the subject.  The rising classical music was interrupted, as Tessa walked into his office, another mug of tea in her hand for him.  He saw her come in, and settled back into his chair, glad of the disruption.  'I've been glancing over these documents again and again, and as much as they tell me, I haven't found out anything new.  The police must be beside themselves with anger at the prospect of so many innocent people being murdered on the streets.  It's a wonder this contingency is still on its feet, what with all the outrage.'

'I'm glad you've had a chance to calm down about it, sir.'  She replied, sitting in the large leather chair opposite him.  'I've got those cctv tapes you requested.  It wasn't easy, but to analyse this menace properly, we can't take any risks.  I watched them, and I couldn't see any markings on the metal hull anywhere.  I'm afraid I still can't determine who manufactures the Sentinels, and where they're even from.'  She sighed, rubbing her head.  'This is a disaster…'

Charles placed the documents back into a folder, and turned the music off.  He moved around the desk to face her.  'This is going to be a long road now.  The path will be long and winding, and we can't make the situation any better for people.  We can try to find and destroy as many of these things as we can, but ultimately, the decision to terminate their production lies within the Government, and the crooked politicians and organisations that are associated with them.  Only time will tell, Tessa.'  He rolled over to the fire, stabbing at the logs with a poker.  They blazed slightly, but eventually settled down.  'Have you got the locations of the other two students ready?  I had trouble finding them myself.  Cerebro needs to be fine tuned if it will ever become as efficient as we designed it to be.'  He stated, finishing his tea.

'I worked them out, and here's the file.  Shall I come with you to California?  The nearest one is there: Katherine Pryde.'

'No, that won't be necessary – I'm going to go there by myself.  The Blackbird needs to stay in the student's possession for the time being.  If a situation arises, then they will need to respond quickly.'  He replied, rolling the chair over to the window, overlooking the Mansion's gardens.  'Logan seems to be integrating suitably well.  He's developed a rapport with Jean straight away.'

'I wonder what Scott thinks of that – I had my doubts about him at first, but he's just naturally defensive.  It seems like his been through the wars, Professor.'

                                                *        *        *

The sun was hidden behind a bank of clouds, which masked the light from casting shadows over the flowers and bushes that decorated the Mansion's idyllic gardens.  Benches lined the stone paths, and large hedges, cut into blocks separated each path from the other.  Placed in the centre of the garden was a small pond surrounded by an iron rail.  A stone fountain peeked from out of the water, spouting a plume of clear liquid into the air before it crashed onto the rocks around.  Jean and Logan walked through the gardens at a leisurely pace, chatting casually.  His grey shirt, stained from years of abuse, clung tightly to his chest, and the dirty jeans he had on complemented the personality that seemed rough around the edges.  'I'm wondering why you chose to come here of all places, Logan, it's not like the Professor advertises for mutants to just come up and join us.'

'Perhaps I needed to find some sorta sanctuary to help me clear my head out.  I heard about this place in the city.  Rumours, mostly from people I met – people I could depend on for information.  It's tough, being a drifter.  Nothin' ties you down.  As soon as one place gets on top of ya, the tendency is to get as far away as possible.'

'I'm happy you did, because we're hurting for help on this whole new problem.  You know about the Sentinels, yeah?'  She asked, stopping in front of him to explain.  He was a good six inches taller than her, and she had to look up to talk to him.  She stood close.

'Hadn't seen a thing 'bout them, before a couple of days ago.'  He replied, looking down at her.

'We got into a mess with one of them on that same day – my god, it was like something out of a dream.  We watched this girl as she was incinerated right before our eyes.  It showed no remorse, no guilt, and no signs of stopping.  It took all four of us to bring down one of them, before some other guys showed up to deal with it.'  She started walking at his side once more.  'We found out later that this guy Magneto was who we spoke to.  He's an old nemesis of the Professors, from a long time ago; he just showed up to look for the girl we were hunting.'

'So what's his deal?'  Logan asked.

'I think he's trying to make a play for power – with the President out of the way, and these Sentinels running about trying to kill all the mutants, he's going to appoint himself as our saviour, hell bent on some sort of jihad to wipe out the people in charge.  Then, once the war is over, he will be our new leader; someone who we can trust and sympathise with, as he can, us.'

'And what do you think?'

'I think that killing all the people in charge, and decimating any amount of faith left in mutants is a suicidal way to become king.  If Magneto really wants to take control of a brave new world, then he's going to have to prove himself, beyond any tolerance that humans will have for him.'  She bowed her head, torn between emotions.  'Personally I don't think it's going to work out.'

They walked along the stone paths silently, enjoying the fresh air.  'What do you think of Charlie's dream?  Sounds like you know him best.'  Logan asked.  He leant against one of the bushy hedges as Jean sat on the bench watching the fountain spray droplets into the air.  

'He's got some nice ideas, Logan, but somehow I don't feel it's going to turn out like he planned, either.  I suspect that we're being built up for the big comedown; that once Magneto goes for the power and gets pulled back, we'll be resented by the public just as much for being involved.  Ordinary people are far too fickle for the Professor's liking.  Nothing special is coming our way.  We've just got to stay above water, and expect nothing more.'  She squinted up at him as the sun finally came out.  'I'm really a positive person on the inside.'  She laughed.  'You've just seen the side that needs reassurance.'

'I believe you got it going on, Jean.  You're alright for a college chick.'

'College chick?  I think I deserve better than that, old man.'  She laughed again.  He gestured to the Mansion casually.  'Go back in?'  She nodded, grinning to him, and they started back.

                                                *        *        *

The North Point Mall plaza was buzzing with the voices of over a thousand shoppers as they milled through the shops and stalls, selling and buying, shouting, whispering and enjoying themselves in the open sun.  Leading straight out onto the public street, people wandered in from outside into the seating areas, buying hot coffee and fresh pastry.  Bags littered the plaza floor, cigarette butts were endlessly strewn across it, and mud from the nearby park caked on the carpets.  Amid the hustling shoppers, Hank and Bobby wandered, looking for deals to pick up on.  The sunny afternoon had everyone out in the open, especially the two new friends who wanted to try their luck at every stall hoping to cheat any sellers out of their products.  

To the side of the plaza came a slow rumbling noise, a grating of metal on concrete, almost like a machine was starting up that was too big for the area.  The noise quickly built up around the area, the people within it coming to a halt as they stared blindly around for the source.  Several ran into the shops, aware of the impending danger.  As the rumble increased, the crowd formed itself into a half-circle instinctively flocking to stay out of trouble.  The giant black head of a Sentinel emerged from behind the obstruction of the plaza floors, and its footfalls shook the ground terrifyingly.  Hank grabbed onto Bobby's shoulder, holding him in place with the rest of the crowd.  It clambered into view like a giant doll; standing oblivious to the rest of the world while everyone stopped to watch.  Its head rotated serenely, followed by the torso.  Several more people stepped backwards, and made a line for the cover of the shops.  

Abruptly, the Sentinel sprang to life, and a tiny pod ejected from its chest plate, towards one of the runners.  The man cried out as he saw the projectile, and it burst open before hitting him, a net flying out to entrap him.  The force of the hit sent the man careening straight into a shop window which shattered on impact.  At that moment the crowd exploded, and people dashed off in every direction.  Screams went up, and the two mutants ran to an escalator to reach the higher ground.  With the ensuing panic, the Sentinel let off numerous flares from its hand scorching the mutants running towards it.  They collapsed feebly in front of its feet.  More pods shot from its breastplate colliding with three mutants running in the opposite direction.

Fireworks spewed into the afternoon air while a young mutant directed his powers at the colossus.  They blew harmlessly away in the wind before the Sentinel closed its foot down onto the attacker.  

Bobby dashed down the ground floor of the plaza, and into view, Hank straight behind him.  'I'm gonna shoot off some blasts, Hank – smash his legs once their frozen!'  He shouted.  Hank grabbed of one of the metal supports holding a stall up and ripped it from the holdings.  A barrage of pedestrians ran in front of his view, brushing past, and hitting him from the side, but eventually Bobby got into the clearing.  The Sentinel focussed in on the young boy's form, narrowing the distance between them with heavy feet.  

Hank ran around to the other side at lightening speed.  'Ready!'  He shouted above the rumble.  The Sentinel let off the orange beams at Bobby, but the boy was too fast, and formed a large wall of ice in front of him, which the beams impacted off first.  He concentrated, and placed his hands below his waist.  The moisture froze beneath him and an enormous column of crystal white ice erected itself, elevating him to eye level with the machine.  'Watch it – he's going to catch you out!  Bobby!'

The Sentinel took a step back and raised its hands to the threat, but Bobby shot off several more blasts, covering the feet of the machine.  They stuck helplessly, and the Sentinel wobbled dangerously.  Hank took an almighty swipe with the steel pole and cleaved through the ice, into the metal hull of the machine.  The ice column was shot in two, the beams tearing into the glass and iron of the plaza's frame.  Bobby saved himself with an ice slide which took him down to ground level.  

Hoisting the pole out once more, Hank clambered to the top of the knee, jamming it between the metal housings.  Bobby then formed a protective layer over it, and thick black smoke leaked out from the Sentinel's mouth.  It shook, then blew off its breastplate, and stumbled backwards.  'It's falling into the shops – Hank – it's gonna crush everyone in there!'  Bobby grabbed his shoulder, and then dashed in the direction of the disaster.  He conjured up his remaining strength, and shot an ice beam underneath the machine, which caught it, and slid the Sentinel back into the plaza.  It lay, blowing a thick fog over the area.     

The crowd reappeared, surrounding the two mutants in a half-circle.  'Well done my boy, you're a real hero.'  Hank whispered.  He held Bobby's hand victoriously in the air.  'Ladies and gentlemen – the fantastic Iceman!'

A bottle flew through the air, striking Bobby spitefully on the head.  He fell unconscious as Hank supported his weight.

                                                *        *        *

In the days past, when Erik Lehnsherr had considered himself to be the arbitrary force that brought mankind to its knees by demanding the surrender and removal of all nuclear power to forever eradicate the threat of nuclear elimination; he had produced great difficulty for himself.  None of the governments to whom he addressed had seen it that way, and as such, he had caused their retaliation on him.  The Japanese Government initiated the first attack, ordering what they had dubbed 'a counter-strike' out against him, using the Fleet Ballistic Missile Submarine, Shogun.  His noble request had fallen on deaf ears to the Japanese government, who were obsessed with the Cold War supremacy race at the time.  Off the coast of Ashizuri-Zaki, on the Island of Shikoku, he crushed the hull of the submarine as it resurfaced to enter Japanese territory.  An object lesson for them – sinking the vessel that launched the attack, just to show he could.  He had felt nothing but pity for their leaders, refusing to relinquish their power so that he might stop an inevitable disaster.  In his ignorance, _he'd _actually believed that they would comply_.  How wrong he was; they had retaliated with an air force strike large enough to intimidate even him.  The submarine had been too far underwater for anyone to survive the implosion, but using it as a statement for the last military order to understand his cause; he had simply left the wreckage at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean.  The counter-attack did not leave him unscathed, but to show his further ability, Magneto destroyed each of the aircraft as easily as he had the vessel.      _

Many years later, he returned, for the purpose of collecting the nuclear arsenal that remained at the bottom of the Ocean floor.  This time, he would settle only for guarding his own domain from the intruders that could threaten the sanctuary of the people that survived there.  He would protect the Savage land from the politicians of the world, and the Sentinels that were currently tormenting the centre of America.  High above the waters, his helicopter hovered, the rotor blades creating ripples that spread rhythmically outwards on the surface.  The cabin door slid open, and Magneto stepped out, onto the rail.  His body floated out from the confines of the vehicle, and he was suspended in the air above a bubbling fountain of water that spluttered and burst below.  He dropped into the Ocean, the magnetic bubble surrounding him.  Wanda stood by the door, looking out at her father, playing games with the world once more.  'Keep it steady, Pietro.'  She said to her brother, piloting the helicopter for them all.

Moments ago, he stood at the bottom of the Ocean, literally miles below its surface, in a realm of darkness and abysmal cold, as alien and hostile as any foreign planet.  He stood and stared at his handiwork, and remembered.  The days long ago when, in his arrogance, he had demanded the great powers of the world to disarm their nuclear arsenals.  

Out of the depths; from the sand and sewage collecting above years of rust and decay within the waters, the hulk of the submarine resurfaced, courtesy of its killer.  Water streamed out of the gaps, gashes and gears, all coated with the mould of decades under the water.  His fingers parted, forcing the hull open once more, and from their casings, the weapons sprung free, and into his possession at last.  They were perfect pen-shaped cylinders, containing enough of a payload to destroy his home many times over, and he would take them for his prize.

The wind blew gently against his cheek, and the sun glazed down upon their activities.  Birds flew high above them, and from out of this peace, the sound of roaring engines deafened the area as jets blazed overhead.  Pulled from his reverie, Magneto held onto the warheads, as they passed and went off into the distance.  Wanda ran back into the cockpit, and slammed a headset on.  She looked to Pietro, but he was busy barking into the microphone.  'We're not encroaching on Japanese airspace!'  She heard him shout above the grating noise of the rotor blades.  Through the windshield, she gaped as the jets spiralled over and spat fire at her father suspended in mid-air.  She struck the flight stick, screaming to her brother, but he didn't seem to hear her.  The helicopter lurched to the side, as the jets passed over once more.  They released a missile at them, and then circled once more.  The helicopter fled off in the opposite direction, and Magneto concentrated, and then let himself follow them, the warheads behind.  

Inside the helicopter, the sirens blared and flashed, wreaking panic within.  Pietro started to speed his movements up, pressing every dial and lever that he could see.  His hands became a blur, and Wanda watched, mesmerised.  'Take care of the missiles!'  He yelled, despite the noise.  'Make sure Magneto is unhurt!'  Wanda ran from the front to the back of the cabin and from the corner of her eye, saw the weapon tailing, flame spilling from its engine as its lock centred on them.  Gunfire from the jets issued from behind, splintering the back of the helicopter rhythmically.  Wanda burst every bullet before it had a chance to come close.  She stepped out on the side of the vehicle, holding tightly to the side rail.

The pilot of the first jet signalled to his comrade, and then let another missile loose from its holster.  Grinning underneath his helmet, he expected the vapour trail to appear, but on his display, the locking mechanism was still engaged.  Registering suddenly, he tried to eject, using the button on the dashboard, but in a determined flash, the jet exploded.  Leaving the other one some time to expect its fate; Magneto tailed the wounded helicopter as he saw Wanda explode the other missile.  Fragments were repelled from his magnetic field as he flew over the water, following his children.  The jet flew by them once more, endeavouring to squeeze off more shots at the targets, but Magneto used his power for one last time ripping every nut, bolt, and turning from the vehicle's structure.  It broke apart in the air, travelling at an unbelievable speed.  The pilots tried to eject, but spun into the waves, the impact killing them immediately.  

Safe to retreat, the helicopter flew away from Japanese Waters, down to Antarctica territory where the Savage land could be found.  Pietro clicked the communications equipment off, and slowed down, controlling the craft at a normal pace.  

                                                *        *        *

Since the introduction of the Sentinel program within the heart of the United States, the amount of anti-human protests and terrorist action had decreased severely.  The Sentinels were rapidly becoming the new police force for mutant action, capturing, collecting and killing the mutant threats, regardless of situation.  The many mutants who had registered under the Act were implanted with a chip underneath the skin, just below the brain, and this was supposed to act as identification for the targeted person.  The Sentinels were distributed all over the country, and soon were exported to the more populated parts of the Americas.  Canada was soon overrun, the mutant populous desiring to grease along with the humans, but in certain parts of Alaska and South America, such as Brazil, Venezuela and Colombia, hardly any mutants went under the knife for the registry chip.  The countries were soon infected with Sentinels, and the factories that produced them, the governments insisting that the action needed to be stamped down on.  The terrorist activity was neutered once more, and the factories continued to build up their forces.

Before Xavier left to go to California, he picked up messages being sent out by the people living in the mutant ghettos of Brazil.  Assembling the students as fast as he could, Charles sent them via the Blackbird to get to the city of Caucaia, near Fortaleza in Brazil.   Once gone, he left to get the Pryde girl in Deerfield.  

The Blackbird never paid any attention to airspace whenever Hank piloted it.  They flew over several countries getting as quickly as they could to Caucaia, all the while receiving information from on-board computers that were linked to Xavier's database.  Ororo pulled one of the documents from the printer, staring at the computer screens in the process.  The topographical, political, cultural and militaristic information was all being displayed over and over, while the aircraft sped towards its destination.  'These things have only just been introduced, but by the Professor's information, they've ravaged the country already.  How are we supposed to take care of the situation there – we're only a few people!'  Tessa unbuckled her belt, as Hank signalled their arrival in a matter of minutes.  'It's not how we can help the entire country that's important, what matters right now is whether we can save an entire group of people from being slaughtered.  Sit tight, and get ready – we'll be touching down in the heart of the site, so let's get everything right.'

'I say we collectively take down each one as it comes – that way we can make sure it goes as planned with as little resistance as possible at one time.  We don't need anyone going off lone wolf style.'  There was a quiver in Scott's voice as he thought about the impending war.  His gaze shifted to Logan, but soon moved off as the man stared back insolently.  Certainly the project had gotten out of hand; spreading to the rest of the world was only a matter of time.  

Rolling hills cascaded fog gently down their slopes as the Blackbird glided over the city.  On the outskirts of the surrounding suburbs, the students on board could see already orange flares blazing into the morning air.  As they got closer, the view was forgotten, and each person on board focussed.  Bobby started to sweat, but it was soon overlooked as the familiar clunk of the landing gear came out, and they landed.  Spilling out of the jet in an unsteady ramble, screams penetrated the atmosphere, and the grating noise of machinery grinded from all around.  A spread of people scattered from out of tents and broken buildings as several Sentinels rounded the beaten path, their faces gaunt and unyielding.  'This is it, everyone – let's make them pay!'  Scott shouted, but his voice was lost in the panic.  He shot off a few blasts from his eyes, but they missed, as he was running.  Ororo took to the air, rising above the others.  Warren followed her example, but dived towards the machines, as they incinerated the stragglers from the group.  Jean used her mind to lift up the hollowed carcass of a truck, and she swung it against the lead Sentinel, but it knocked the object out of its path, proceeding to fire some nets at the combatants.  The students scattered, and Hank and Logan ran toward the machines, breaking out their weapons.  

Logan jumped off one of the houses and landed on the arm of the leader, jamming his razor thin claws into the hull and tearing a gash as big as he was.  Shafts of ice propelled through the air, splintering against the metal hulls of the Sentinels, but did nothing.  Bobby ran for cover as the counter attack tore up the ground where he was just standing.  'I need some help!'  He screamed, but the concrete collapsed about him, holing the X-Man up.  Warren landed on top of the lead Sentinel's head, and placed a small device in a crack.  The massive metal beast swivelled around to try and bat him away, and succeeded in flattening Warren's form, which dropped to the ground.  Logan leapt off the shoulder as the head burst open in a blaze, landing shakily on the dirt path.  It stumbled along the passageway, finally coming to rest on a heap of rubble.  Growling viciously, Logan spied another one coming around the corner to kill them.  'Over here!'  He yelled, and sped off in its direction.  'Don't split up – Logan!'  Scott called amid the noise.  'Damn it, we need to stay together or we're finished!'  

From just over a quarter of a mile away, Ororo hid behind the corner of a building atop the surrounding hills.  Clouds accumulated above the ghettos, the air stirring with static charge.  It rumbled as she cast her hands to the sky, and flashes of lightening struck into the Sentinels, shattering them in a spectacular light show.  She looked around her, making sure no-one was any the wiser.  

The Sentinels were grouping together in the centre of the area, slowly paying less attention to the mutants abandoning their homes, and more on the attackers.  Streaks of white light burst through the black clouds above them, knocking two of the giant constructs out, and hitting the ground with ferocious force.  The earth shook and rumbled as each hit the floor, burning inside.  Hank ran over to the other side of the remaining Sentinels, watching for splinters and sparks flying everywhere.  He took hold of one of the legs as it swung forward, and then proceeded to break into the compartments and rip out the wires.  Logan dashed below him and sawed into the joint, causing the machine to stagger.  It turned on them, bashing Hank back onto the path.  Once done, the eye in its palm opened up, and the orange flare shot out, catching Logan unawares.  He was pushed onto his back, and the flesh was flamed straight off of his body, leaving it charred, black and burning.  The Sentinel resumed its course, and hobbled toward the Blackbird, sitting defenceless.  Hank got up, nursing his damaged back, but saw Logan's remains stuck in the dirt ahead of him.  'Jesus, Logan!'  He cried, dashing over.  'Oh my god, you're completely burnt – help me, someone!'

The walls shivered and crumbled as one of the remaining Sentinels stamped down a side path, slowly chasing Tessa, as she ran for her life ahead of it.  It crushed on the rubble, flattening houses, and decimating the gardens.  Standing still for a moment, it raised the arm, and fired off the familiar orange flare, coursing over the ground in a bloody tear.  She hid behind one of the walls, as the beam passed over the ground in front of her.  Tessa stared around, looking for a sizeable weapon to use.  Panicking as the Sentinel came closer; she left the idea and ran out of the way toward the far wall of a large house.  The beam shot over her head, blasting away the wall, and she hit the ground running.  The foot of the Sentinel towered over her, and she screamed, preventing it from falling down with the power of her mind.  She stretched out her arms, the sweat pouring off her, and then forced the foot backwards.  There was a space of a metre above her head as the Sentinel prepared to stamp down once more.  Once again, she stopped the foot closing down on her body, and the Sentinel opened both its hands, firing the orange flares to each side of her.  The ground burst open beside her, the earth flying everywhere.  She screamed.  Suddenly, the Sentinel stepped backward, as Warren flew into its view, his wings beating as he struggled to maintain his altitude.  Wounded from before, each wave from the wings cracked his back agonisingly.  The Sentinel sent up the flares into the sky, illuminating the dark clouds.  Lightening tore down around the area, as Warren struck the Sentinel against the head at speed, forcing the giant machine around.  It spun lazily, careering into the buildings.  Warren swept down, taking hold of Tessa in his arms.  They left as the Sentinel lay in a heap, concrete and metal construction bars sticking through its chest.        

Scott skidded to a halt in front of the marching Sentinels, and switched his visor on.  The fiery red beam blazed out, cutting into the hull of one, and knocking the other one backwards.  It straightened, and shot a flare at him, but Scott vanished.  He looked out from underneath the truck wreck, and then ran out as they passed by, catching each in the back with his blast.  The leader swivelled, and shot out a net from his chest, which caught Scott against a wall.  He struggled limply in pain, but slipped into unconsciousness.  Jean ran over to him, and cut the wires holding him loose. He slumped onto the floor.  'Scott – wake up!  We've got to get out of here; this whole thing's gone wrong.  Scott – damn it!'  She screamed, dragging him under the cover of another broken building.  

Ororo appeared in the sky, calling down a hazy fog for them to hide in.  She cleared away the rubble covering Bobby with a strong wind, releasing her friend.  He ran over to her.  'Ororo – am I glad to see you.  We've got to leave.  Get the others, I'll try and take on the other Sentinels.'  She flew off in the direction of Scott and Jean, while Bobby ran for one last stand against their opposition.  He summoned as much power as he could and fired off several shots of ice, which collided with the Sentinels, knocking one over entirely, the other shafts sticking in the machine's breastplate.  It collapsed to its knees, breaking apart, producing a thick, dark smoke from the mouth.   

Watching as their enemies finally fell; Hank was tugged by his shirt to the floor.  Logan's claws popped in front of his face, and Hank scrambled back in terror.  'Logan – you're not dead?!  Hold still, I'll call the others; don't move!'  His body shuddered and convulsed, and he vomited over the path, clutching his chest.  He sat up, and retracted the claws.  Hank watched, mesmerised, as Logan was resurrected before his eyes, the flesh and skin crawling back onto the black muscle, blood oozing from the cracks and tears in his torso.  'I'll be looking better in a few, bub' he croaked out, spitting blood away.  'It takes a while…'  Hank stood up in disbelief, and ran for the other students.

Rain plummeted from the sky, cleansing the land of its wounds.  The area was bare, so they students grouped together, under the shelter of the Blackbird.  Before them was a sea of destruction and carnage, hollowed out carcasses lying broken amidst the rubble, while incinerated bodies lined the paths, burnt and blackened.  The grass was stained crimson, tainting the earth.

                                                *        *        *

The journey back was an emotionless one; none of the students wishing to speak while everything was still fresh.  The computer monitors were all switched off, and nothing except the hum of the engines could be heard.  Jean took control of the jet, while Hank sat still, nursing himself in the chair opposite.  The com beeped into life, and Jean picked it up.  A crackling voice buzzed through and Jean responded forlornly.  She nodded, and placed the receiver back.  'We've got to go somewhere else immediately – the Professor has picked up news of something big in Pula, Croatia.  We've got to get there now.'  Logan moved forward from where he sat, grabbing her shoulder.  'What the hell does he want us to do?  In case you haven't noticed, we're not exactly on best form here, girlie.'  

'The acting President – his daughter has been taken from their home in Washington – Xavier thinks the Brotherhood has done it.  We're supposed to do this for him, Logan – it's our job.  Let's just get on with it.'  She moved the controls around, manoeuvring the Blackbird away from Maine, and across the Atlantic toward the impending disaster.

                                                *        *        *

Outside a large warehouse on the outskirts of Pula, Remy lit up a cigarette with his lighter.  He relaxed against the large wall, admiring the fair weather in the mid-afternoon.  Scratching his stubble slightly, he sucked in a few breathes of smoke, and blew them out again, creating a haze in front of his red eyes.  Part of the Brotherhood had flown to the edge of Croatia, next to the coast of the Adriatic Sea in order to hide the girl they had taken from the offices in Washington.  She had struggled at first, considering her father was now the most powerful person in the United States, but she soon gave up the fight as Pietro had drugged and bound her.  Now she stayed in a compartment in their newfound warehouse, unconscious.  Their helicopter was at the top of the warehouse, with a large tarpaulin thrown over it; and although the situation in the Middle East was extremely tense at the moment, Magneto had insisted that they would be exempt from danger while they remained to hide the girl.  Magneto contacted the President personally this time, demanding that he put an end to the Sentinel contingency, if he ever wanted to see his daughter again.  As of yet, he had received no confirmatory reply that the Sentinel production would be halted and recalled.  That was two days ago; the President had only two more days to stop the production completely, and recall each of the atrocities.  

Remy sighed, exhaustedly, and finished his cigarette, stamping the butt out on the rocky ground.  Rogue exited the warehouse, looking for him.  She walked over without saying a word, and they nodded to each other.  'It's getting uncomfortable, staying in there.  I wish we were back home, and then I could appreciate the quarters we've got.'  She said.

'Know what you mean, chere.  I be hoping that her daddy caves soon.  This whole thing – its jus' sick.  Put the whole thing 'bout mutants into perspective, neh?'  

'Remy…'  She paused, quietly.  'What do you think about us?'  

'Brotherhood?  S'alright, but I never tend t'stay in one place for a long time, so I'll see.'  He replied.

'I mean, about us – you and me?  What do you think?'  She asked again, stepping closer to him.  'Everything about Magneto and the Brotherhood – that's not important right now.'

'I want to take care o' you.  Je te voudrais, chere, but I can't touch you.'  He replied, quietly.

'Do you think we should still be together?'  She asked, almost whispering.

He felt her heated breath on his lips, and he stroked her reddening cheek with his gloved hand.  'Yes – I do.'  She pulled him into a kiss, but he retracted after a few seconds, feeling slightly hazy.  'I'm sorry – I didn't hurt you did I?'  She asked, concerned.  

'Nothing I can't handle.'  He said, taking a few deep breaths.  She had drained him in their embrace, almost absorbing his mutant abilities, and memories.  Remy seemed to recover after a moment, shaking off the weariness.  Overhead, the roaring sound of jet fuel burning swept past them.  Pietro suddenly appeared by their sides.  'What was that?'  He shouted as it went by.  

'Don't know, man – we might soon find out.'  Remy answered.  He took a few steps forward, coming out into the middle of the road.  Ahead of him was a large black aircraft just landing, the dust and dirt billowing up in a cloud as it touched down.  Pietro was by him instantly once more.

The ramp of the Blackbird plopped down into the dirt, and the weary X-Men scrambled out.  'There they are!'  Scott called to the other students.  He readjusted his visor, and darted towards them.  Pietro suddenly emerge before Scott, and shoved him to the floor.  'You're the young punks that we at the sight of the Sentinel before – where we found the girl.  What are you doing here?'  

Jean ran to them.  'You're the ones holding the President's daughter – that's a bad move – you're just going to aggravate the situation, don't you realise?'  She pleaded with Pietro, but he blew them off.  'Magneto has told them if they don't stop the Sentinel production, then we're going to take care of his daughter.  I suggest if you were clever enough, that you leave us alone.'

'The Professor knew it was you and Magneto that took her – you've catalysed the problem even more!'  Jean shouted.  

'We wouldn't be in this mess, if only you could use your powers to make a difference, red – get back or you're going to find yourselves in a load of trouble!'  Pietro shouted back.  

Scott shoved him out of the way to go to the warehouse, but he sparked up a fight for them all.  'Oi!  We've got a problem – Rogue – get the others!'  Remy shouted, but he was propelled backwards by a bolt of ice from Bobby.  He hit the far wall, but got up again, and took out his deck of cards.  Pietro was sent flying from Hank and hit the dirt on his back.  Remy charged each of the cards in his hands with his energy, and they shot out from his palm exploding with the force of a small bomb behind the students.  They fell to the ground, and Jean knocked him over with her mind as she got up.  Scott shot a blast from his eyes through the warehouse wall, and it crumbled into bricks and mortar.  They heard the sound of the helicopter rotors starting up, and Ororo flew to the roof of the building.  She landed on top, and saw Chrome starting the helicopter.  He looked over to her, and ripped his headset off, but a large ball of hail burst through the glass shoving him out the other side of the vehicle.  

Facing off against each other, Rogue was surrounded by Bobby and Tessa.  They each lunged for her, but she backed out, and caught hold of Bobby's wrist as he turned to get her.  He faltered slightly, but skewered her wrist to the wall with a shaft of crystal white ice.  She screamed in pain, and absorbed his power from her hold on his wrist.  Bobby hit her hand away from his, and was subsequently thrown backwards by a plume of ice from her hands.  He lay, winded on the dirt path.  Tessa was grabbed from behind by Remy, who charged the belt she was wearing.  They tussled with one another until she started to scream out.  He punched her brutally around the jaw, and relinquished his hold on her waist.  She doubled up in agony, and was unable to defend herself as Remy kicked her to the floor.  A red blast hurled him to the side, and Scott ran through the hole in the warehouse. 

Hank jumped on top of a fence and threw himself at the top of the warehouse, just catching the top of the roof.  He hauled himself up, rolling over the top to see Ororo about to fall off on the opposite side.  Chrome about-turned and braced himself for another fight.  His hands glowed with an angel blue aura, but before he could use them, Hank bashed straight into him, and took hold of Ororo's frozen form as it fell from the top of the warehouse.  'Warren!'  He called out, panicking.  Chrome picked himself up, and lunged for Hank as he was spread over the side of the roof.  He dodged Hank's flailing foot, and grabbed his waist, immobilising it.  The X-Man shouted for Warren again, but the numbing sensation was creeping up through his nervous system as Chrome held onto his waist.  The strain on his arm was becoming unbearable, and just when he thought he couldn't hold on, Ororo stirred, and screamed as she was hanging upside down.  'Let me go!'  She cried out.  Hank's grip was frozen around her ankle, and he couldn't let her free.  Chrome was almost finished, but a silver shaft of lightening scissored through the atmosphere and shot straight through the roof.  His attention was detached just long enough for the big man to wrench his stiff leg back from the cold grip and then Hank kicked him in the stomach.  Chrome was tossed backward; then lay in an unmoving heap.  

Warren followed Pietro about, as he ran rings round the students in the warehouse.  Logan fought off Wanda, batting her out of the way as he tried to catch Pietro.  His animalistic pace kicked in, sending his adrenaline through the roof.  He somersaulted over Scott, and caught Remy in the back, kicking him against the wall, violently.  He then ducked under Anne Marie's attack, as she holstered her gun, to take him on hand to hand.  She threw a punch at his head, but he swept under her once more, drawing three perfect scars across her hip.  She yelled, and sliced her hand down onto his shoulder, but he fought it off, and shoved her against the wall, stabbing her in the left leg with his claws.  As quick as he had done so, Logan jumped out of the way of Wanda's attack, and kicked her between the legs.  She slumped to the floor, and was then caught with a blast from Scott.  Logan stalked past Rogue, who reached out for him, the shaft of ice still wedged in her wrist.  'Get the girl out!'  He shouted to Jean, who was disappearing down into the warehouse basement.  

* Where the hell is she? *  Jean thought out loud, and she concentrated, trying to pick up on everyone upstairs.  She registered at last and dashed into the dimly lit corners of the basement.  Logan ran after Jean but was tugged to the floor from behind by Pietro's quick hands.  He struggled, but Pietro stamped on his chest viciously, and disappeared down into the depths.  A red blast from Scott crumbled the wall just above his form, but he was long gone.

Rogue was invigorated by Logan's strength transferred to her body; she winced, as the blood around her wound suddenly set, and the shaft inched out by itself.  She broke it off, and ran over to her friends, disabled on the floor.  Picking Remy up, she overheard the sounds of trucks pulling up outside the warehouse.  'We've got to get out of here, Remy.'  She whispered.  'The Croats are going to have a field day, if we're not out.'  Hoisting him to his feet, they stood close to the outside wall.  Tessa grabbed Anne Marie's gun, and held it to the Cajun as he was about to leave.  'Don't bother trying to take us on, this whole fight is over – we're taking the girl with us.  You're lucky you didn't call down an American strike team to retake the girl; they'd be a lot less merciful than we were.'    

Jean ran into the dark, reaching out with her mind to find the light switch in the uncompromising darkness.  She checked past massive boxes and crates, opening herself up to any thoughts that might be broadcast in her direction – distress signals, or cries for help.  She looked into a blackened corner wishing the light would illuminate it.  Only the shadows stared back at her, but Jean was sure she could see something – a shape moving, ever so slightly.  A rush of wind swept across her damp brow, and Pietro walked from out of the shadows, the light slowly creeping across his gaunt features.  Jean jumped back in shock.  'Where's the daughter, Pietro – we're not fooling around, here.  If you've killed her, you've made the situation all the more worse.  The government will double the amount of Sentinels on the streets!  You can't have been that stupid.'  

'I wasn't that stupid.  Father didn't want it, so I didn't do it.  I'll only ever do what he wants, Ms. Grey.'

'We've been reading up on you all – Magneto's files can be quite comprehensive.'  Wanda stated, coming into the area from behind Jean.  

'Give me the daughter, and we'll go our separate ways.'

Although Jean couldn't see it, Wanda nodded to her brother slightly, and Pietro vanished from Jean's view.  She spun around, but faced only more darkness as the light's burnt out.  Pietro's hawk-like laughter echoed in the basement as both disappeared up the stairs.  

From the roof, Warren watched the Croat soldiers jump out of the trucks, taking rifles and pistols from the back.  His blood ran cold, and he looked to the other two.  Chrome slipped into the cockpit of the helicopter, while they were all distracted.  The engine was still running, as Wanda and the girl in her arms suddenly showed onboard, in the cabin.  Ororo was the first to turn and catch sight of each of the Brotherhood clambering into the helicopter.  One minute Tessa was standing with two of them against the wall, a gun in her hand, and the next they were gone, Pietro making sure everyone was on the roof before they had a chance to react.  A silence followed, as the students stared at one another in disbelief.  Outside, the faint sound of pattering feet was heard as the soldiers dismounted and surrounded the warehouse.  They spread themselves around the Blackbird, running for cover amid the houses and shelters.  The jet appeared to lie safely in the middle of the road, but each of the students knew it wasn't.

'They're going to think we're terrorists – what's gonna happen to us?'  Ororo yelled.  A shot splintered the bricks in front of the students, and as soon as they dropped to the floor, the walls were peppered with gunfire.  

As quickly as each of the Brotherhood got on board, the helicopter flew off, leaving the X-Men alone.  'We have to get onto the Blackbird before anything else can go wrong.'  Ororo whispered to the others, her voice wavering.  She sunk her head low, away from any stray sniper sights, and motioned for the others to follow.  'It's because we flew over their airspace without any permission from Croat airports.'  She took another look over the roof.  'Did we manage to get the President's daughter?'  Hank shouted as they made their way down to the ground floor.    

Shots were fired from the soldiers as they saw Logan prowling dangerously near to them.  He fled, running through the hole in the warehouse wall.  'These Croats have taken up points around the jet, and we're holed in.  I say we fight our way through, and take them on.'  He said, looking around suspiciously.  He backed up against the wall, popping his claws, and snarling fiercely.  As if on cue, the main warehouse window shattered, and a gas grenade dropped into the centre of the group.  Cloudy smog swiftly filled the room and the students panicked, Ororo and Bobby running out, making for cover on the other side of a railway line, which split the area in half.  Scott yelled out after them, but the smoke invaded his lungs, suffocating him.  He staggered, trying to breathe through his cluttered throat.  

'Time to make a stand – make sure you keep your heads low!'  Logan shouted.  He jumped out of the window, and caught two of the soldiers in the back with his claws.  He stood straight, looking for a way out, but more of them ran from behind the corner, their guns blazing.  Logan ducked, rolled, slipped and slid out of the way, dragging his claws along as he moved.  He cut into the legs of a few, before leaping to his feet; he then kicked one out the way and watched as the last was sucked back against the wall.  Jean rounded the corner, and fought off a soldier who smacked her around with the butt of his rifle.  She toppled back onto the dirt path, and Logan stabbed him in the stomach, pouncing atop the body to throw himself at the other soldiers.  

Hiding behind a burnt out truck, Ororo was too stressed physically to bring down anything more powerful than a light sleet.  The icy snow blanketed the road ahead of the soldiers and they slipped on it, careering into another wall.  She dashed out of their view, and ran into Hank.  He bounded down the icy road, and picked up the soldiers in his large hands, tossing each into the air.  Bobby called for Ororo as he was snatched up in a Soldier's camouflaged arms, and she summoned down a wind to blow them all over.  Unexpectedly though, a hit floored her from behind, and she passed out.  Rushing up the open ramp of the Blackbird, Jean closed the door behind them, ensuring the soldiers couldn't catch the aircraft.  Logan sat in the co-pilots' seat, and strapped himself in.  Instead of turning the engines on, she elevated the entire craft with her mind, taking it from the battlefield.  Warren flew into their view, his white wings beating forcefully as he tried to catch up with them.  

A violent explosion sounded left of the warehouse, and Scott picked himself off the floor running out to escape the soldiers.  Bullets ricocheted off the walls and ground, and he tried his best to dodge each as it came.  The building in front of him shook and collapsed, as he hid around the warehouse corner, a hail of gunfire spattering along the path by his side.  'Help me – I'm caught in crossfire!'  He cried, but not a soul heard his pleas.  Tessa rounded from the rubble, and she spied Scott, who was caught between her and the gunfire pinning him down.  'Get the others – we have to leave!  Where's the damn jet?  I bet Logan's taken it, the snake!'  He shouted, furiously.  

'It's too late, the Blackbird's disappeared!'  She called back, ducking to the floor.  A bullet lodged in the brick just ahead of her face, and she crawled back, out of his view.  Scott put his hands over his ears, the grating noise becoming deafening.  He thought she shouted something, but the gunfire was too loud for him to overhear.  Suddenly it ceased, and he replied.  'What did you say?'  

The rubble shifted with difficulty, and Tessa's scream pierced the hiatus with deafening intensity.  'Oh my god – Scott – I think Hank's dead!'


	5. the ties that bind

Writer: Rowland Wells

_Disclaimer:  I am in no way any part of Marvel Comics or any affiliation of their enterprise.  I do not own the X-Men or any Marvel Characters.  _

Alternate 

X-Men 

#04

"the ties that bind"

Xavier's students were stuck outside a city on the coast of Croatia, sent to rescue the President's daughter who had been captured by the Brotherhood.  They demanded that the Sentinel contingency be halted or the girl would be executed.  In the ensuing chaos, the X-Men managed to let the Brotherhood agents slip through their fingers and out of sight, while they were left to contend with the Croat soldiers, who had tracked the illegal entry from miles away.  Jean and Logan took the Blackbird out of reach from the soldiers, while Warren followed them, but the other students were not so lucky.  Scott was pinned down in a closed alley, gunfire echoing around outside it, while Tessa relayed the news that Hank had been crushed by falling rubble.  'Set it down there, outside that fenced area – careful now, we don't want to get in the way of Wings out there.'  Logan pointed to Warren, who was landing opposite them in the dilapidated garden of a worn-out house.  The ramp came down, and Jean ran out, immediately searching for the conditions of the others in the area.  Gunfire could be heard off in the distance, and Logan raised his head to the sky.  'I hear a chopper comin' in.  We'd better get in the 'Bird again, Jean.  No sense in having ourselves held down too.'  Logan took her by the shoulder, but she shook him off, angrily.  'We've got to find the others – I'm picking up on some serious anguish.  It's hard to focus on them, when they're so emotional… I can't find Hank.'  'Why don't we just get in – can't you hear the helicopter?  I ain't gonna leave you all by yourself in the open.  It could mean more of those Croat pigs.  You'd be safer with me, Red.'  She brushed off his arrogance, in distress, and ran further away from him. Warren stepped up to them, brushing his blond hair out of his eyes.  'He's right Jean, we can't stay in the open by ourselves.  Let's take the Blackbird nearer.' Jean resisted, walking into the street.  Her eyes blinked open abruptly, and she dashed off across the area.  'Jean!'  Logan shouted, but she had gone.  Trying to block out the increasingly unnerving splits and crackles in the brick beside him, Scott concentrated on trying to hear Tessa, who was rooting uncomfortably underneath the collapsed house, trying to rescue Hank's crippled body.  Bullets lodged themselves in the ground as the snipers knew Scott was still trapped, but not showing himself.  The ground burst and ripped apart as he peered around the corner quickly.  'Scott!  Oh my god!'  Bobby yelled as his leader was struck in the chest.  Bobby rounded the corner, barely able to stop as the bullets flew in all directions.  He freaked, and ran toward Scott, who was lying half-insensible on the ground, his flak jacket torn wickedly.  The concrete above his head shattered, showering him with loose rubble.  Tessa dragged Bobby, screaming, over to the shelter of the collapsed house, and he turned to look at her, his face an awful pale white.  'Get me out of here – Tessa – get me out of here!'  She shook his limp form, and he struck her away, landing painfully on his back.  The rubble exploded in pieces, bits of plaster, mortar and wood flying all over their bodies.  She took a hold of his arm, but lost control in it as a stray shot bit her in the shoulder.  She slumped over, the momentum pulling her under.  'Christ – Tessa, Scott – wake up – we've got to leave – I don't care about these people, I don't care about anything – just let's leave please…' A grenade went off behind them, more of the debris showering his animated form.  He wouldn't stop screaming until Ororo ran into his view.  She grabbed him, holding his body tight to hers.  He didn't seem to hear anything of what she was saying, but it didn't matter anymore.           

Ororo pulled the other students underneath the shelter, and with all her power, summoned the best distraction she could.  Scott started to come around, rubbing his head, the blood trickling from his impact with the dirt path.  The rain poured down onto the earth, none of them able to distinguish between it and the sound of the gunfire.  The line of soldiers who had taken up their nests behind the railway line was sat just above the tops of the houses.  The wood in front of his view burst open and Scott ducked as the splinters tossed over his head.  He sat up again and took off his visor, letting his eyes wide open.  The red flare shot from him and shattered the walls, crumbling the nests.  The soldiers dropped out, but Scott was shot at again, and he placed the visor back on, wary of the extreme danger.  'We're stuck – I can't help out!'  He shouted.  

'What are we gonna do, man?  They won't stop until we're dead, now that they know we're mutants too!'  Ororo shouted back.

From the safety of his field bubble, Magneto rose above the scene, and watched as the train sped into view, cutting the city in two.  He brought his hands to the sky, and lifted the colossal carriages from their tracks, the metal grating furiously as it grinded along.  His power was enough for him to maintain the enormous object, and he suspended it in the air, above the soldier's heads.  Ignoring their howls of fright, he released the carriages from his iron grip, and sent the train down onto the lines of soldiers.  Scott and Ororo watched as the shadow loomed over them, blocking the sun temporarily.  They stared, speechless.

The soldiers cried out, and scattered, but their voices were silenced forever as the colossal construction touched down with the ground they stood on.  An immense crash sounded throughout the area, but Magneto didn't register as he stepped onto the ground before the remaining soldiers.  They fired at him, not even bothering to run for cover first.  He swerved the bullets away from his body, and they stuck fatally in the soldiers.  

Logan, Jean and Warren ran into view, and Magneto gave his spy the smallest of small looks, before walking over to the wounded students.  Delgado hauled the rubble and debris away from Hank's limp body, and picked the man up in his giant grip.  'What are you going to do to us now?'  Scott asked, standing up to Magneto shakily.  

'I cannot believe you tried to rescue the girl, Cyclops.  Did Charles really think I would kill her?  I'm not a monster, contrary to what you all may think.'

'You haven't given us reason to think otherwise so far!'  Ororo shouted, tears welling in her eyes.  'Give Hank back to us.'

Cortez checked the X-Man out, and started to give him CPR.  'He's not dead yet, Lord, but he soon will be, if we can't administer some fluids and perform surgery.  I can't be certain he'll live.'

'We'll take him with us; I believe you don't have enough medical supplies onboard your toy.'  Magneto pointed to the Blackbird, off in the distance.  He raised the craft with a wave of his hand, bringing it over to them.  Cortez then took hold of Hank, and carefully pulled him onto a stretcher.  The rotor blades of his helicopter started up once more, preparing to depart the scene.  

'When will we see him again?'  Scott asked, almost defeated.  

'We shall travel back with you, and once you land, so shall we.'  Magneto turned to go, but paused.  His face went black with anger, and he raised his gloved fist to Scott and the rest of the broken team.  'Never get in our way again, or you shall live to regret it – tell Charles to leave me alone, or he will suffer the ultimate consequences.'

The two teams boarded their aircraft, abandoning the area once again.  The Blackbird flew out of Croatian territory, the Brotherhood's helicopter tailing at speed.  'Do you think Logan's gone soft on us, father?'  Wanda asked, stitching her cuts with a thin needle.  'You don't think he's become a turncoat, do you?'  

Magneto directed his attention to his daughter, scruffy and bruised.  'I think the only reason Logan hasn't killed Charles yet, is because he's trying to seduce someone.  The man has only three vices, Scarlet Witch – killing, cigars and women.  I doubt he's ready to switch sides – I seemed to get the message that he was looking forward to getting rid of his new mentor.'

                                                *        *        *                

Jean walked out of the operating room, exhausted.  She had just performed extremely dangerous surgery on Hank to try to save his life from the slow suffocation of a crushed torso.  The risk was too high to even consider, especially as the procedure was still conceptual, and as yet, only tested in animal labs.  The Professor had returned from Deerfield as soon as they set down in Brazil, bringing a new arrival with him.  Both he and Jean went straight to work on Hank, who was in critical condition to the point of death. Charles tapped into the minds of the best surgeons all over the Earth, linking with Jean to discover the most efficient and safest way to save their team mate's life.  In that way, the two of them had been able to adopt the skills and performances of every one of the surgeons put together, and although the meds used, and procedures performed were experimental, it had worked successfully, but now all they could do was to watch and wait.  Hank would either slip from their grasp and go brain-dead, or he would recover.

Jean stepped over to the sink, washing the stains from her hands.  Her neck cracked satisfyingly, and she closed her eyes, so weary that she could collapse.  Logan was the first into the surgery, but to see how his favourite red-haired young surgeon was doing.  'I hear you and Xavier did it properly.  How's he holding on?'

'It's pretty much too early to tell, but we think we've raised his heart rate, and got him on the road to recovery – if he can do so.  We used some special techniques on his body – something used only in labs.  We think it might turn his hair blue.'  She undid the tie in the surgical gown and let it slip over her arms to the floor.  Logan picked it up with one of his claws, and tossed it into the waste bin.  'And how are you holding on?  Everyone else has gone into some sort of shell, shielding themselves from anymore hurt.'

'I've been through it before – they'll get better too, it just takes time to pull through without any scarring.  What about Scott?'  She asked, exiting the dismal halls of the surgery.  'I don't speak to Slim, Red – he and I, well we don't get on right.  Must be his problem, I guess.'

They entered the lift, which brought them up to ground level.  'Is there anything I can do?'  He asked, concerned at her lack of bouncy enthusiasm.  

'I don't think so, Logan, I just need to sleep.'

Tessa took Kitty around the halls, showing her the entire Mansion, while her arm was still out of commission.  'This is cool; I never really thought it would just be a huge house, with no-one around.'  She said.

Tessa peered into Charles office, half-expecting him to be there, when she knew he wasn't.  'We're all a bit wounded from the last set of incidents – so don't mind anyone if they seem a little unresponsive.  This isn't going to be like any other school you know.'

'Where's the Professor then?  He was the one that persuaded me to come.'  Kitty said, the smile on her face radiating through the halls.

'He's away at the moment – trying to pick up another mutant.  He knows we need more students to make this whole thing work.  I know we do.'  She stated scratching at the bandages on her arm, underneath the dark shirt she wore.

                                                *        *        *

Somewhere in the district of New Jersey, at an airstrip just off from the commotion of the main streets, a light plane was making its landing on the tarmac runway.  In the mid-afternoon, a large family car pulled up alongside the small radio shack, and the doors opened, the breeze blowing through the deserted area.  Five Russian arms dealers closed their car doors, and waited for the plane to stop.  The leader, Andreyev, held a large black briefcase to his leg, and motioned for his cousin, Piotr to come over, while the plane doors breezed open.  A group of Arabic men stepped out, opposite them, their dark trench coats waving slightly in the wind.  'Keep close to me, Piotr – you might learn something about how to keep yourself among these shady people.'

The leader of the Arabs came over to them.  'I see you have briefcase there – that for us?'  He asked, laughing to his comrades.

'Yes, Ahmed – this is for you – everything you asked for.  Where is the money you owe us?'  Andreyev asked, stretching his arm out with the briefcase.  

Ahmed pulled another dark briefcase out from behind his back, and gave it to them.  The Russian's inched closer to Andreyev, completely on edge.  A cold wind blew between the two groups.  'This is full of nothing but paper!  What are you thinking?'  The Russia leader shouted, shoving his case behind his back.

The Arab followers pulled out Uzi's, and proceeded to bring down the Russians.  The splitting sound of fire echoed around the desolate airstrip, and screams were suddenly silenced.  Andreyev collapsed to his knees, sinking quietly to the floor.  Piotr, his cousin was propelled back into the car, smashing through the window.

Ahmed breezed over to the dead bodies, clutched the handle of the new briefcase, and marched his henchmen into the plane quickly.  As it doubled round and flew off into the distance, Piotr picked himself up from the damaged car, his silvery metal skin stained from the bullet marks.  He crawled over to the body of Andreyev, and sadly, went quiet.

Charles wheeled up beside the damage, and surveyed the tragedy.  'Piotr,' he called, and the Russian faced him, a look of complete incredulity plastered on his face.  'Don't be sorry you've been ousted from your family – you're part of the X-Men now.'

                                                *        *        *

Outside the Oval office, Charles Xavier sat drinking his cup of black coffee from the blonde secretary.  She smiled at him happily.  His thoughts trailed over the recent proceedings; trying save Hank's life, picking Kitty up and depositing her at the Mansion, collecting Piotr, and then finally, of him not getting enough sleep.  He rubbed his temple tiredly, wishing things were different in the world for the fifth time since he had stayed put outside the office.  * Things have changed so much since the days when the dream was still a fantasy.  How can I be sure, in a world that's constantly changing?  The political, moral, philosophical and ethical aspects of my vision are all too real.  Can I endanger the lives of the children to whom I entrust this power?  Would Erik and I still be friends if I hadn't argued – would he have gone to such extreme lengths to prove me wrong? *

Charles was pulled out of his reverie by the bubble of a secretary, who politely informed his that the President was now free.  * Is it worth it, in the end? *  He asked himself, before the door opened, and the recently appointed President showed him in.  'Professor Xavier – it's good to see you again.'  He shook Charles firmly by the hand, and sat opposite him, behind the desk.  The bodyguards stood patiently at the doors.

'I know I've already spoken with you on the matter, Sir, but I am hoping the Sentinel contingency will soon be shut down.  I'm afraid matters will only escalate if you persist with this course of action.'

The President leaned back in his chair, pushing a file over to Charles.  'I thought you might be coming to talk to me about this.  It's underway, Professor.  I've contacted the producers and the organisation, and it's releasing the scheme.  You have your wish, my friend.'

'I know your predecessor felt differently about the mutant situation, but I'm hoping you are a man of your word.'  Charles stated, almost adding condescension to the sentence.  

The President chuckled under his expensive suit, and flattened his tie.  'There's no doubt that this entire project is coming to a close.  It's not likely to be resurrected for a while now – if ever.  Every Sentinel unit has been deactivated, and the programming redesigned.  If they're still on the streets in the meantime, they'll be used as giant lampposts.  I realised the strength of the situation now, Professor, you don't need to remind me of it.'

'I understand that, it's just I'm fighting for the right to survival, Sir, and if it wasn't a given that mutants need to live like the rest of the Homo Sapiens, then it should be.'

'It's a little more complicated than that; once other countries saw the success of the oppression of the terrorist communities, they took notice and were therefore contacted by the same organisation we were.  Of course, the organisation originates in this country, so I put a stop to it throughout the world.'

'So any other "dangerous" activity will be judged on a fair and equitable basis – exactly like the human people of America?'  Charles asked.

'Yes.'  He replied, leaning over his desk toward Charles.

'And what of the Brotherhood?  What treatment do you intend to give them?'

The President got up from his large chair, and walked slowly around the desk.  He picked up a small document lying on his corner of the surface, and held it high.  'This is a copy of my daughter's interrogation report, Xavier; a_n interrogation report_.  Do you know what kind of relevance that brings to my mind?  My daughter had to be held by the Federal Bureau people until they had gathered her details.  Do you know how that makes me feel as a father?'  He said, outraged.

'How does that make you feel as leader of the United States?'  Charles replied quickly.

'This government office was informed by SHIELD that they had set up the Magneto Protocols several years ago in order for his activity to be quarantined.  I don't feel that was absolutely the best course of action to take, when a man who could kidnap and threaten to execute the President's daughter is running around the world playing God to every nuclear power on Earth!  He took her in the middle of the night, from our state home in Washington.  They broke in without anyone knowing – it was only later when he told us, that we were forced to label him as a threat to the nation.  Magneto is not welcome in this country, and soon enough, he won't be a threat to anyone else in the world.'  The President sat back in his chair, agitated, and drank his coffee bitterly.  

'What, Mr President, do you suggest is the best course of action to take?  These Magneto Protocols – they aren't enough to secure him?'

'We've tracked the Brotherhood to a small Island off the coast of Antarctica.  With the remaining power of the Sentinels, it's planned that they will go and take out his base of operations before anyone else can follow his example.'

Charles looked dumbfounded, but quickly recovered his posture, concealing the extent of his concern.  After a while, he spoke.  'Are_you_absolutely_sure that trying to kill him would be the best bet?'

'It's my personal duty as leader of this great country, to eliminate forever the possibility for insurrection of mutantkind.  We don't need a civil war raging in our own borders.  I think I've made my point, Professor.'

Charles thanked him, before leaving, but his pleasantries were hollow, and without any real meaning.  Although Magneto was their enemy, he was their friend also.  

                                                *        *        *

In the underground basements of the Mansion, Tessa sat in the control box overlooking the two new students with their headsets on.  Her arm was slowly starting to feel normal again, the bullet having been taken out.  The bandages itched, but she could put up with that, being able to control her mind on a limited basis.  Although not the greatest telepath in the school, she had some ability with it, but her main skill was the incredible memory she had.  Tessa Niles was practically a living computer, able to store and retrieve any information almost instantly.  Right now, she was using that knowledge to work the danger room controls to the extent of their capabilities.  She had Kitty and Piotr crawling through a narrow sewer, walls all around and very dim lighting, to find their way out.  She spoke through the microphone.  'You're coming too a junction up ahead – it's large so stay frosty.  Make sure you don't lose your way.'

Stepping lightly, Kitty made sure she wasn't down in the sewage, but rather on the brick rails that ran the length of the dirty, grey walls.  'I never thought in a million years, that I'd be doing something like this with my power.  I can't believe they've got us walking through crap!'  Her voice reflected off the walls, and bounced down the tunnel.  The burly young Russian walked in front, hardly saying a thing as he tried to make out the path ahead of them.  She stumbled and grabbed hold of his shoulders.  'Sorry – I was gonna fall into the water, and it doesn't look all that nice.'

He turned around to her, and she stood balancing atop the rails, hair flailing.  'It's not that nice – how about I carry you?'

She grinned to him innocently in the lowlight.  'You could do that…'

They were interrupted as the left wall collapsed to the side of them, and as the dust cleared, a bulky metal construct lurched through the open space, locking onto them.  Piotr picked up a large brick, and smacked the construct against the side of its head.  It recoiled from the assault, and raised the two guns on its arms.  The Russian changed his skin into the metal outer layer, and braced as the slugs broke against his body.  Kitty phased herself, allowing the rest of the slugs to pass through her transparent body.  Piotr hoisted the construct up by its neck, and smashed the skull plate into the brick ceiling.  Kitty ran through him, and on towards the junction.  'Here they come, keep on your toes, girl!'  Tessa shouted through the mic.  Several more of the machines slumped into view, their joints and mechanics clinking harmoniously in the echoing tunnels.  They blasted at her, but she phased again, and ran to the first one, passing her hand through its circuits.  Kitty took a bunch of the wires, inside the compartment, and then went whole again, ripping the circuits through the machine's own body.  She dropped into the water, aware of the gunfire coming her way.  

Piotr watched as more of the fire stuck into his chest and stomach, so he charged two of the main attackers, breaking them apart, then swung his arm into the headpiece of the final robot.  It crumbled, and he picked Kitty up off the floor, continuing on.  Tessa sat back and watched through the remote headset cameras.

                                                *        *        *

Remy found Rogue sitting alone in the middle of the courtyard gardens under a wooden shelter, drinking idly from a cup in her bare hands.  The rain was pouring down over her roof, and she spotted him coming, finishing up the drink.  The cut in her wrist had healed completely, but her emotional state of mind was the most damaged.  He sat down opposite, without saying a word, and stared at her for a while.  'I'm sorry, chere, I didn't wan' to spoil a thing.  Perhaps it would've been better if I'd kept my mouth shut.'

'I'm not sure what I was thinking, Remy – it's just I've been alone for an awful long time now, and I think my feelings took control for that moment.  I didn't want it to sound like a slip of the tongue.  Oh god – I… I meant what I said.'  

'Do you wan' to be with Remy, chere?  You are the only one here who really gives a damn 'bout me.'  He said, holding his gloved hand over hers.  'I can't touch you, but I can still feel you.'

'I don't want to hurt you…'  She said, turning away to hide the single tear.  'I've never gotten close to somebody.  Always pushed away, 'cos I'm a freak; an' I can't touch no-one.'

He drew his fingers down her cheek affectionately, and pulled Rogue into kiss.

'What are we going to do if push comes to shove, and they kick up a storm in our home?'  Pietro posed to his father.  'We can't survive forever, hiding away in this place.'  Magneto walked back from the huge glass windows, and looked at his followers, sat out to cheer on his cause.  'That will be their error – we can stay safe in the Savage land for as long as we want.  If the worst should happen – the mutants are forced to live as slaves under human domination, then I shall relinquish our threats on the civilised world, for it will no longer be civil enough to satisfy my governing it.'

Wanda interrupted him, and stood, aggravated, behind her father's chair.  'We know that's not going to happen, father, but if we call down the thunder, can we reap the whirlwind – would we come out on top?  When the X-Men arrived, we were almost beaten.  Do you think we could handle it if they decided to take us on for pushing ordinary humans too far?'

Magneto rose, and stared at his daughter, who backed down.  'They haven't met their match in you.'  He walked over to the huge windows again.  'They haven't met me yet.'

'You should listen to your father, children, his ideals serve as a foundation for all of us to build our futures on.  Xavier and his students cannot realise the error of their ways until it is too late, sir.'  Cortez stood behind his master.  Pietro leered at Fabian, despising his fanatical belief in the empty vision.

'Is everyone here ready to bare the same punishment as you father, once we're called for judgement?'  He asked, gingerly.

Magneto said nothing for a while, and then slowly turned to look at his son's gaunt features.  'Why don't you share my faith, Quicksilver?  You're my son in blood only.'  He looked back out of the windows at his glorious land.  'Every one of the people here will get what they deserve when my time has come; including you.'  Pietro left before Magneto knew he was gone.

*        *        *

Jean was sitting in the gardens in the late afternoon, the sun setting amid the dusty clouds that wafted across the sky gently.  The colours illuminated the land, dousing it in salmon pink and a beautiful shade of red.  She was staring blankly at the sky, unaware of Logan's shadow coming up behind her.  He flexed his muscles, and cracked his fingers, before she turned around to look at him.  He stared infinitely back into her eyes.  The sunset light was casting its radiance over her tired body, highlighting the red tint of her short hair, and perfect nose.  Her eyes looked quizzically at him, as if he was wondering what to do.  She caught sight of his bared muscles, twitching as he raised his hand to wave half-heartedly at her.  'What's up?'  He said, finally standing before her.  She squinted as her vision was obscured by the light.  'Want to go for a walk?'  He asked.  

She got up without saying a word.  'Have you seen the others?  I'm hoping they'll get over this soon.  The adjustment is big, but nothing they can't handle in the long run, I feel.'

'D'you get that from readin' their minds?'

'Not really, but it's something I can sense, even without telepathy.'  She replied forlornly.

'Hopefully Mags will calm down after this whole thing – doesn't look like we're enemies.'

'I have no idea anymore, Logan.  It's just become a big mess – even if the Sentinels aren't around anymore, the world needs time to change.  The Professor thinks it's all good at the moment, but I don't.  Not anymore.'

'And what do you think of us?'  He asked, glancing quickly up to the windows.

'Sometimes I think we'd have been better off if you hadn't shown up.  It's all gone downhill since you came.  You're arrogant; and you think you've got all the answers.'  She said, stopping behind the Mansion's walls.

'But ya can't deny you're attracted to me.'

'…Yes.'  Jean replied, biting her lip.

He took hold of her, and swept them into a deep kiss.  She fought for a second, but succumbed to his will.

From the view through the first floor windows, Scott watched the two of them.  His hand gripped the window rail tensely, leaving marks.  His mouth clenched shut, and he snapped his head back to walk out of the room.  Piotr watched him go abruptly, wondering what was wrong.  He turned his attention back to the tv, and Kitty watching it.  Scott trudged down the stairs, and straight into Charles' office.  The Professor was pouring through the newspapers casually, waiting for an article on the recent Whitehouse events.  'I'm unhappy with what's happening here.'  He exclaimed tersely.

Charles tossed the paper onto the floor, and turned his chair to face him.  'What's the matter?'

'I'm sick of everything in this damn place – the environment, the city, the whole idea.  _I'm sick of the company here.  Our mission – it's pointless, isn't it, nothing's turning out how we planned!'_

'What are you talking about?  What has caused you to be so irrational – I talked to the President only a few days ago.  Do you not like someone here, Scott?'  He enquired.

'Jesus, you make it sound like I'm some little kid who can't make up his mind about something – everything here – it's not gonna last!  I can't take being in this place.  My ribs are killing me, my friends are being beaten to the floor every day, I just want out!'

'Calm down – let me help you out, you're not thinking clearly, Scott.'  Charles concentrated, and tried to release some endorphins into Scott's mind, to secure him.

'No, I don't want you to do that!  God, it's just smothering – I can't stay in this cause one minute longer – the humans – they're going to win in the end, and it's no use trying to prolong the inevitable.'

'I can't believe you're saying this, what's given you the idea that we're trying to overcome humans and win the planet back?'

'They're gonna keep coming at us, with their robots, and their laws and their groups; they're going to come up with more schemes and ideas – and then those things are gonna come in here, and they're gonna kill us!'

'Jesus, Scott - won't you at least sleep on it?  We'll see what the real trouble is; you can't seriously believe what you're saying!'  He replied, anxiously trying to prevent the next move.

'You just don't get it, Professor – everything's collapsing in on us.  I'm out of here, and don't try and call me back.'  He marched out of the office, with Charles staring blankly behind him.

He slid the security card through the reader on the wall below the Mansion grounds, and entered the large hanger.  The fluorescent lights buzzed on, illuminating the bay with a flickering glow.  Before Scott was the Blackbird, bathed in luminosity from above; he went underneath, and tapped in a code, lowering the ramp.  It clunked against the metal floor, and Scott paced up the stairs, sitting in the pilots seat.  The Mansion's tennis courts broke apart, the hanger doors opening to allow the jet freedom.  The engines burned, and suddenly it was gone, leaving the wind blowing briskly across the empty courts.  The doors closed, and it was silent once again.

                                                *        *        *

Wanda ran to find her father, coming straight from the control centre of Magneto's fortress in the Savage land.  She found him reading in the main hall, and called for his attention.  'Father – we've found something on the radar – it's trying to stay below our range, and using some sort of dampening field to weaken it's signal, but it looks to me like it's the X-Men's jet coming for us.  I'm wondering how they knew to find us.'  She stopped outside the entrance, and Magneto got up to come with her.

The landing pad was cleared suitably quickly of all the leaves and puddles that accumulated on it by the Blackbird's powerful retro engines.  Hundreds of followers witnessed the jet pass over the Savage land.  Magneto stood proud by the pad, awaiting the arrival.  Pietro and Wanda stood by his side, half-expecting another fight to break out.  The jet touched down shakily, the rain bouncing off its black polished hull.  Scott walked down the ramp as it descended, and walked toward them, his arms open in consent.  'I'm willing to listen to what you have to say, Magneto.'  He said, bluntly.

'Excellent.'  He said, relishing the moment.  'You have done well, my boy.  You won't be judged here.'


	6. complication

Writer: Rowland Wells

_Disclaimer:  I am in no way any part of Marvel Comics or any affiliation of their enterprise.  I do not own the X-Men or any Marvel Characters.  _

Alternate 

X-Men 

#05

"complication"

Logan stood before his reflection in his small bathroom mirror, brushing his teeth carefully.  He eyed himself, scrutinising every little contour and line etched across his calloused skin.  Spitting the contents of his mouth out, he closed the cabinet door, no longer showing his reflection, but that of a young red-headed girl in the bed opposite.  She sat reading the newspaper, gazing at the main article.  His apartment was situated in uptown Washington D.C, and the motorcycle used to get them there was in the garage below the block.  It overlooked the main streets, and other giant apartment buildings in the city.  He stepped back into the bedroom, wearing nothing but his boxer shorts, and opened the curtains slightly, allowing the smoke from his cigarette earlier to waft out the gaping window.  'There's some information on the Sentinel problem here.'  Jean said her brow furrowing as she read the paper.  'It looks like the Professor got through to the President.  The Government's recalling all the Sentinel units and recycling the metal.  I think humanity is finally starting to come around to our way of thinking.'  She laughed.

Logan said nothing, and sat on the side of the bed, his back to her.

'Perhaps the dream hasn't been a waste of time.  Still, we have to keep up the premise that the school resembles a collective housing estate for Jehovah's witnesses.  Do you think this will affect us in the long run?'  She asked, tapping the paper against his bare back.  

'I don't know, Jeannie.  At least we don't have to fight 'em anymore.'  He mumbled.

She nodded, wondering what the matter was, but left it, deciding not to dig further with her extra senses.  

He stood up, and emptied the ashtray out of the window, padding around in his bare feet.  He stood opposite, watching her every beautiful movement.  Jean threw the paper to the end of the bed.  'I wonder how Scott's getting on… last we heard of him, he'd gone into the Savage land.  What a place for a guy like him.  Somehow I feel responsible for his leaving, Logan.  I can't help thinking he left because of something I did.  If anything happened to him, I could never forgive myself.'

'I'm sure the kid's all right, Red, he's a tough bastard, and I've only just met him, so it shows on the outside.  Whatever he's up to, you can bet he'll still be making some good decisions.'

She was a little taken aback, at his apparent concern.  'I'm surprised you actually care, Logan, you've never rubbed along with Scott properly.  Why do you worry now?'

'Perhaps,' Logan started, kneeling on the bed sheets 'because I think he means something to the whole idea of the X-Men, and I don't want to see the kid get wasted for some stupid reason.  Now how about we take care of something a little closer to home, Red?'  He picked the paper off the end, and chucked it across the room.  Jean grinned, taking off her loose nightshirt, and they both dived under the covers.

                                                *        *        *

Canary Wharf, one of the tallest skyscrapers situated in uptown London, was used primarily as a giant business centre, available for all kinds of foreign and local workers to commune and gather there.  The Docklands, the area surrounding the giant building was linked to the Thames River, which ran through the middle of the huge city.  The early morning atmosphere was cold and sterile, people bustling in and out of the area, ready for work.  The smell of fresh coffee and pastries from street sellers wafted through the locale, creating a uniquely cultural and serene ambience.  

At roughly half-past ten in the morning, the top few floors of Canary Wharf exploded.  The debris shattered the street below with concrete slabs, giant metal girders and shards of glass.  People fled in shock, the noise almost too loud to comprehend.  The surrounding buildings trembled mightily, and the roads vibrated under the bystander's feet.  Screams of terror and fright went up into the early atmosphere, dispelling the cold fog of the night before.  Only debris and rubble, surfacing from impact marks on the ground below showed through the noise, the people having scattered.  Immediately, police and fire brigade sirens issued from all around London, the services racing to rescue the trapped people inside the remaining floors of the huge skyscraper.  

Two policemen stood opposite the tower, watching in awe as the splinters fell from the sky, implanting into the concrete of the road and pavement.  They were soon joined by a third, who appeared rather suddenly by their side, his hat tipped low, covering the familiar silvery streaks in his slicked back hair.  As the emergency sirens came nearer and louder, the small group ran away from the streets, and toward the river, eventually coming to the warehouses, away from the damage.  They entered the biggest building, and climbed aboard the concealed Blackbird Scott was piloting.  He was looking on in disbelief at the terror outside.  Pietro threw his hat into a corner, and sat at the controls.  'I can't believe you just did that!'  Scott exclaimed.  'Did you even give them a warning or a threat first?  How many people do you think died in that explosion?'  Remy and Wanda sat down behind them in the passenger seats, while Pietro initiated take-off amid the confusion, only a few blocks ahead.  'Our father told us not to give a warning sign – he was very strict about it, but from what I saw, hardly anybody was even in those top floors when I set the bomb down.  Mind you, I did leave down the fire escape stairs, so perhaps there were more people there than we thought.'

'My god, you'll have every mutant in Britain eradicated and for what, publicity?  How could Magneto be so stupid?'  Scott asked, slamming his fist down on the silver dashboard.

'Search me, I just do what he tells us – if I questioned everything he said, he'd hate me even more for being rebellious.'  Pietro answered.

'It's not for the kill, Scott – it's the principal.  Even with the apparent dissolution of the Sentinels, the world still needs to come to terms with our power, and they therefore have to respect us.'  Wanda assured him.  Her arm wrapped round his shoulder from behind, almost in serpentine fashion.  She caressed it ever so slightly.  'We've got to fight for our right to survival.'

He swivelled on her, angrily.  'That wasn't any fight I've ever seen – for all you know, you just butchered those people – Magneto will never get me to kill for him, no matter what he does.'

Pietro turned to him sourly.  'It's your grave, Cyclops – just remember that it was you who came to us for help.'

                                                *        *        *

Hawk Spaskyich marched through the Whitehouse corridors, in the mid-afternoon.  The production factories and main organisation leaders had all pulled out from his Sentinel programme, each explaining that they were required to by the US Government.  He brushed past the security guards, and was searched as he stepped into the main body of the building.  He wearily collected his belongings, and walked into the Oval office, where the President was busy with his Chief of Staff.  The two men looked at him, and the President pressed the button on his intercom.  'Hold my calls, please.'  

Spaskyich sat down irritably, waiting for the Chief to leave.  'I need to talk to you, Mr President.'  He said. 

The other man left awkwardly through the side door.  'Haven't seen you for a while now, Hawk; what's the problem?'  

'The Sentinel contingency – what were ya tryin' to do?  You realise there was mutant terrorist action on a skyscraper in London this morning.  They blew up a British mutant containment meeting, and knocked four floors off the tallest high-rise in the skyline.  I recognize the Sentinels hadn't been issued yet in England, but that's my point exactly.  Stopping the programme is just plain wrong, Mr President, and I think you might be inclined to start the whole thing off again.'  Spaskyich crossed his legs confidently, toying with a lighter in his breast pocket.

The President stood in front of the defiant Texan, and sat on the edge of the desk, bearing down upon him.  'Perhaps the decision isn't up to you, Hawk.'  He got up, and ambled slowly around the room.  'Since the Sentinels were engaged, I've had nothing from the mutant community but threats, insults, hate campaigns from people who refuse to understand, and a lot of bad press.  I had my daughter kidnapped.  Do you remember _that?'  _

'These are all reasons to initiate them again.  Why the hell are you backin' down to these racist, overbearing bastards?  If you ask me, they're sub humans, who don't see the way our world functions.  They think it's just black and white, and nothing's gonna come at them for all they've done.'

'I'm confused, here – it sounds almost like you're being racist toward mutants.  Don't think I haven't thought this through.  The only way for us to live in harmony, without everybody killing everyone else, is if we lay off them.  It's unethical and immoral!  There's no way I'll condone a course of action which will lead us into war!'

Spaskyich stood, thrusting his chair back, to face the President.  'There won't be a war if we can take every mutant out before they have a chance to rally to Magneto's side and destroy us!  I can't believe you're being so obtuse.'

'I'm quite sure I don't want to annihilate a fifth of the world's population on whim, because I want to treat all mutants the same way I treat terrorists, and those people that threaten the very nature of our government.'

'Every mutant is a terrorist deep down.'  

The President opened the door to his office, and with a sweeping hand, showed him the exit.  'Get out, Spaskyich – your motives are outdated, and corrupt.  I'm not reactivating the contingency, so you can leave your prejudices with all your buddies in Texas.'  Hawk was out the door before the President spoke for the last time to him.  'If I find any source of Sentinel action anywhere in the world, then I'm coming straight to you, and we'll march every reporter and mutant sympathiser, every left-wing, right-to-life college student and the very same mutants you despise right onto your front doorstep to bring everything you stand for down to the ground.  Have I made myself clear, Spaskyich?  I_wouldn't_want_you to take it the wrong way.'

The President closed his door, and buried his face in his hands, exhausted.  

                                                *        *        *

The Mansion was quite desolate at this time of night, most of the students being asleep.  Logan, though, did not always sleep so well.  A lot of things had overcome him during his long life, and he still dreamt about it all.  It haunted him, like a long knife sticking out of his back, ready to rise again once he let his guard down.  He had suffered injustices and many losses all those years ago, but now he no longer wished to dwell on any of them.  He stood in the lobby of the Mansion, close to one in the morning.  The full moon bore a whole in the velvety black sky, shining through the windows and illuminating his form ethereally.  Ahead, the glow of burning wood flickered and spat light into the otherwise darkened office of his new mentor.  Shadows crept along the wall as the flames licked out, and slowly died to embers.  Deciding not to waste time, Logan crept along the carpeted floor, his footfalls absorbed by the springy material.  He reached the office door, wide open to friends and visitors.  He could hear the slow, relaxed pace of breathing flowing from the room, knowing that the Professor was in there, alone.  Logan held himself to the wall, and unsheathed his six claws, all untarnished even from years of abuse.  Several times, his muscles flexed, just set to spring into the room, and at each critical moment, his will failed.  The body shivered with anticipation, the sweat just trickling down the inside of the arms, and the brow almost becoming too hot.  Logan raised his hands, the sparkling knives of metal shining in the moonlight.  His feet raised him up, and he narrowed his mind, converting it into pure instinct; into a machine, capable of reproducing the same task over and over – the simple action of taking.  What he was prepared to take, however, was the crux of the problem.  The end of the institution was not really what he wanted.  Every one of the students would then be abandoned, and without a leader to guide and defend them, the terrors of the world could consume each of them once more.  

Shaking his head in dismay, he thought for a moment that he had finally gone sour, and lost his will, but he breathed deep, focussing his talents.  He exhaled, and breathed in once more – the scent of the Mansion, a place he had stayed with people for the longest time in memory.  The familiar odours of the glowing embers, the cold coffee, the fresh laundry and a thousand other memorable smells that saturated his senses and cleansed his system.  He stood straight, paying attention, and crept into the office.  The details of the room laced his senses, and Logan stopped to look at the Professor, his head down in a book, his back facing the door.  The claws popped silently out again, and Logan walked up to the back of the man, his mind focussed on one thing only.  

Charles stirred, and raised his head, immediately sensing the other presence.  He relaxed, and shuffled the book out of his lap.  'Why are you up at this time?'  He asked.

                                                *        *        *

Jean lay asleep, under the covers of her bed in the Mansion, her clothes littering the floor.  Logan was sitting next to her, reading from a tattered book that he had found.  The wet weather outside allowed only small glimpses of early morning light into the room, eventually disturbing her rest.  She rose from the mattress, rubbing her head, and looking over at Logan who nodded at her.  She went into the bathroom, leaving him alone.  The tap turned in the sink, water dribbling out slowly, and Jean splashed some on her face, still feeling slightly groggy.  Coming back in the room, she slipped out of her t-shirt, which had three distinct slashes in the side, and put on white vest.  While she busied herself around the room, Logan peered over the top of the book, finally placing it on the nightstand.  She smiled to him a couple of times, drawing the curtains, and picking her things off he carpet.  

'I gotta talk to you about something, Jean.'  He said, forcing himself to speak.  She stood up from the floor, staring into his eyes with remarkable intensity.  Although she could, she refused to search his thoughts for a clue to the impending conversation.  'This is awkward.'  He mumbled, crossing his legs while sitting on the mattress.  'When I came to New York, off the plane, I met up with this guy at the airport, and we started talkin'.  At first, I didn't really think him anymore than some sort of salesman, with a pitch for activism, but he started to tell me about mutants, an' I got interested.'  

'Logan, you're worried about something, I can feel it, what's wrong?'  She asked, leaning on the end of the bed.

'Basically, I was approached by the same people we've been up against since the beginning; the Brotherhood mutants.'  There was a slight crackle in his voice, and he was about to speak when the telephone on the nightstand burst into life.  Jean remained unblinking, and telepathically lifted the phone to her hand, her eyes locked on Logan, who was very on-edge.  'Yeah.'  She said into the receiver.

'Jean, this is Hank – I'm downstairs in medical.'  He answered back.  

'Oh, I haven't checked on you in ages!'  She rebuked herself.  'How do you feel?  You've been out for about four days now, slipping in and out of consciousness.  Who's with you at the moment?'

'Ororo's been really good to stay here all this time, but she's just getting some tea at the moment.  I feel like I was hit by a ton of bricks!  Is everyone else ok?'

Logan sat on the side of the bed, staring despondently out the window.

'Everyone's fine, though we haven't seen Bobby for a while; he was quite cut up about the whole thing.  I just woke up, though.  Does your head feel in good shape?  We've put in a morphine line if you need it, the button should be there.'  She replied.

'Everything's alright, Jean, it's just, I've looked in a mirror, and my hair… its gone blue.  Why?'

'We had to use an experimental procedure on your body – it was only tested on animals for the best part of its development.  There wasn't anything else we could try; Hank… I'm sorry.'

'Right; never mind, its not that bad – anyway, I _will speak to you later, Ororo's got some tea on the way.  Take care, my girl.'_

Jean placed the phone back, and put a hand on Logan's shoulder.  'What were you saying?'

'It doesn't matter.'  He brushed her off, and walked into the bathroom.  

'I think it does – you said you were approached by the Brotherhood.  That is serious information, how come you never told us before, Logan?'

He stepped into the doorframe, head bowed somewhat.

'I wasn't just approached, Jean, they recruited me.'

She was going to look past that, to what he had become.  She was determined to see him that way, just as she expected others to see her that way.

He continued.  'Magneto called for me, 'cos I was involved in some serious stuff back in the day.  I used to work for the army divisions, dangerous stuff that only I could carry out because of my abilities.  I guess he must have known 'bout all that.'  He struggled getting the rest out.  'After Mags had had some run-ins with Charlie X that he didn't approve of, I was asked to go out and take care of the situation.'

Jean stared, dumbfounded, and her face started to mould into a despicable leer.  'What do you mean by "taking care", Logan?'

'My objective… was to_kill_the_Professor.  That's what Magneto wanted.'

'What?  Did he even say why he wanted Charles dead?'  She asked, defeated.

Logan scratched himself, wondering what to do.  'No.'  He replied, after a while.

'Is that why you were out of bed last night?  I thought you were in the bathroom!  Oh my god…'

'I couldn't do it… I didn't want to.'

'Jesus Christ, Logan, you're just an old bastard, aren't you.  I can't believe you've told me this, after we had sex the same bloody night!  What the hell did you think you were doing?'  She shouted, punching him around the jaw.  He recoiled, and grabbed her wrist, pushing her lithe form against the wall.  Tears started to well in her green eyes.  'What're you going to do now, kill me instead?'  

'You listen, ya stupid girl – I didn't hurt the old man!  He's alive an' well downstairs – I couldn't kill him!  I left it alone 'cos I'm with you now!'  He threw her against the side of wardrobe door, but she pushed past him in a fit of rage, and ripped open the bedroom door.  'Well aren't you the saint!'  She screamed in anger.

'What was I supposed to do, Jean?'  He yelled at her retreating form.  'It's in my blood!'

                                                *        *        *

The mist rolled over the mountains that shielded the Savage land from the heavy ocean breeze.  It blanketed the lush jungle vista, covering the whole Island in its milky haze.  The spires of Magneto's fortress, Avalon, poked out from the mist like discarded children's toys sticking out of a toy box.  The clouds covered the sunshine, and the trees and lakes below remained in perpetual twilight while all the animals shuffled underneath the foliage.  The pre-dawn light reflected off the mist, creating the most serene atmosphere anyone of the people living there could wish for.  

Somewhere, in the centre of the Texan outback, the numerous missile silos that decorated the area around the factories opened up, and smoke billowed out.  The remaining Sentinels spewed forth from the gaps, their engines full, and their weapons primed.  The sky was swiftly filled with their forms, issuing from the ground in clouds of vapour and dust.  They thundered towards the Islands off the coast of Australia.    

Waterfalls cascaded into the lakes below the rolling mist, the liquid spraying along the rocky sides.  The Blackbird stayed under the hanger, concealed from the prehistoric world above.  Noises came and went in the early light, and all around them was peaceful, exotic and idyllic; a world stuck in time, while everything else advanced.  The high walls of Avalon stretched onwards and upwards, the clean, unmarked stone ascending in the cloudy mist above.  The windows looked out onto the treetops and grassland, through the vale and valley and through the structures of the fortress.  The landscape was devoid of life and movement in the early morning, save for wind rustling the edges of tents strapped to the earth, or the grass-reed coverings used for roofs.  They swayed gently, then energetically as the breeze rolled and spilt over the locale.  The light was abruptly shut out, cooling the area, but shadows loomed overhead.  The Sentinels silhouettes wafted across the jungle vistas, coming past the shores to the small structures and houses in the village.  The calmness and serenity of it all was broken, as each of the constructs touched down on the ground, crushing houses and the parts of Avalon alike.  Arms raised, the bright orange flares blossomed into life, blazing wrecked paths of torn earth and bush along the lines of houses.  A mighty thundering crash sounded across the Island as explosions burst into the air, and screams of fright and terror echoed toward Magneto's lair.  Avalon stood proud amid the destruction, the many Sentinels careering through the woods and grass to exterminate every last mutant they found.  Hundreds of people ran onto the polished grounds of the standing fortress, calling for their lord and master.  The Acolytes, now numbering as many as there were Sentinels ran to protect Magneto's flock, taking each down as best they could.  Bodies littered the frayed jungle paths, incinerated and crushed, burnt and bloody.  The Sentinels swept, kicked and thrashed each mutant out of their way, intent on finally bringing Magneto to his knees after such a drawn-out struggle for power.  The master of magnetism came into their view, atop the highest spire of his glorious domain.  He surveyed the genocide below, and fought back.  While the Sentinels were devoted to eliminating each survivor resisting their assault, Magneto called upon his most focussed of talents.  Explosions went up around him, Sentinels toppling and bursting.  In his final hour, he caused the programming and wiring of each remaining monstrosity to reverse and rewrite, bending their supremacy to his unceasing will.  He stood on the shoulders of the giants, riding his new warhorses into the heart of the enemy territory.

The destruction left behind was phenomenal, the entire land decimated from the attack.  The people from Avalon helped the remaining survivors into the fortress grounds, and they prepped the Blackbird for take-off.  

Scott ran for the control station where the Brotherhood monitored every part of their initiative.  He jumped through the door, and sat down at one of the workstations, desperately trying to get online.  Wanda and Pietro came in after him, almost as terrified and distraught as he was.  Scott stabbed at the keyboard, calling up the coms.  He patched in the frequency for the X Mansion, hoping to call his friends there.  'He's finally gone mad, if we don't contact Washington, he'll collapse the entire city.  My god, we're never going to survive this!  What can we do, Wanda?'  Pietro cried.

'Scott, call up your friends – they're the only ones who'll be quick enough to do anything!'  Wanda shouted in his ear, she shook him, as he focussed on the computers.  

'I know, dammit, there's nothing I can do, right now – the transmitter tower has been put down.  It needs someone to go up there and fix the aerial.  Otherwise, I can't send any messages!'  Pietro was gone in a flash, and the two were left to worry by themselves.

He reached the tower, frailly blowing in the wind.  The clouds above brewed with intensity as the storm rumbled and quaked.  Steam and smoke fluttered past his head, and he stared blindly at it, unsure of how to work.  Suddenly the control box sparked, and he went over, breaking it open to then splice the cut wires.  They fizzed and glimmered in his gaunt hands, and it sprang back into life.  'That's it!'  He shouted, triumphantly.  

The computer flicked the message on the screen, and Scott clicked it off, finally grabbing the microphone.  The time was quickly going; Magneto would be in Washington in under an hour.  He barked viciously into it, Wanda by his side, trembling with anxiety.  '…if anyone's home, you've got Magneto coming to the US with as many Sentinels as I could count.  This is Scott Summers calling the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters – come in if you can hear this, Magneto is on his way to the Government headquarters – please, pick this up!'  Wanda looked at him, her face a collage of broken emotions.  'Hank, Tessa, anyone – just come in – you have to get a move on…'

Magneto crossed over the many miles and leagues of water, the Sentinels intent on killing every human they encountered.  His cause was adamant, and he would not stop now; nor would he ever stop showing the world how it worked.


	7. the flood

Writer: Rowland Wells

_Disclaimer:  I am in no way any part of Marvel Comics or any affiliation of their enterprise.  I do not own the X-Men or any Marvel Characters.  _

Alternate 

X-Men 

#06

"the flood"

The weather above the city of Washington D.C was relatively calm, besides the occasional breeze, bustling tattered newspapers and crushed leaves across the dirty streets.  The sun was hiding behind the clouds, barely letting any of its radiant glow touch the beauty of the Washington monument or the Congress buildings on Capital Hill.  The monotony of it all was disturbed though, when the light shining down on the city was blocked out by the armada of Sentinels, riding into battle.  At first, nobody noticed their colossal forms floating serenely above, until they started their descent on the fair city.  Magneto was perched on top of the leader's shoulder, guiding and manipulating the entire crew.  The grass and trees swayed violently as they finally landed in the parks in the middle of the city.  They spread out, some launching back into the air, and surrounded the area.  Magneto raised himself off the shoulder and hovered above the scene.  The Sentinels were stopped, and then their master finally commanded his attack.  Simultaneously, the machines went to war, and fired on every human they could see.  The vicinity was in uproar, people running terrified, and traffic in the street coming to a standstill as his army wreaked havoc on the land that bred them.  

A tidal wave of utter horror and panic swept through the city as the people were faced with the hideous reality of their saviours turning on them in their hour of need.  People ran for cover, the buildings and trees being incinerated and crushed behind them.  Anyone who wasn't under shelter was burnt without mercy, mothers abandoning babies, families being torn apart by the very fabric of their lives.  The machines stamped through the parks and out onto the streets, burning and flaming every living organism in sight that didn't conform to the X Gene DNA scans.  Cars and trucks collapsed under heavy footfalls, each giant unit swiping and kicking and burning everything in its path.  Magneto flew among his armada, the right hand controlling each and every malicious movement in his search to root out the evil of the world.  He cleansed the streets, annihilating everything they came across.  Buildings crumbled and fell under their own weight, ambulances, fire trucks and the police cars were all included in his glorious purge.  His everlasting determination broke down the Washington Monument, letting it crumble into the pool below its supports.  The rubble decimated as each Sentinel trampled over to reach the screaming innocents on the other side.  People scattered for houses and shops, still on fire, or parts burnt clean off.  Cars were crushed, trucks thrown against the sides of buildings, and amidst all the damage, Magneto was there, standing as a god among men.  

The police reacted speedily, barricading off Capital Hill with many cars and swat vans.  They set up concrete blocks in the way, pointlessly though, because each Sentinel stepped over into the other side.  Explosions refracted around the city as his machines were finally combated, and Magneto came to the rescue.  The cops cheered as one fell out of harms way and collapsed on the concrete roads.  They mounted several more rocket launchers, each swat team manning their own.  Plumes of rocket vapour sliced across the heavy atmosphere, striking each construct brutally.  They tumbled pathetically to the floor, bursting apart.  Magneto landed at the concrete, and the bullets bounced off his magnetic shield.  Using his great power, he pulled together the pieces of each of his men, and reconstructed the defeated Sentinels before the police force's very eyes.  They came together in one fluid motion, and struck back at the cops, who ran for their lives.  Magneto raised their cars and trucks into the air, and flung them into the walls of Congress, toppling the columns that held the great building as one piece.  Brickwork collapsed and shattered below, littering the steps with debris.  Magneto worked his powers with every scrap of metal present in the entire building, and soon enough the walls burst apart, letting the metal pieces fly onto the desolate streets.  Army jets careered overhead, scrambled from miles away.  They flew around the city in formation, finally coming to the mayhem below as Magneto advanced his forces to the Whitehouse.  

                                                *        *        *

Having received the urgent call from Scott in what was left of the Savage land; Charles immediately woke the students from the well-earned rest, and sent them on the newly constructed Crow to engage their enemy in a fight to the death.  Like the Blackbird, it was smaller, and faster, but also much more delicate, and it was the only aircraft they owned.  This time only one of the adversaries would walk away from the battle, leaving the other to perish in the hands of fate.  The remaining students were on board, and in such a state that it would have taken a miracle to raise their spirits.  Logan sat at the back, only holding onto his place at the institution by a hair's breadth.  Jean was at the front, piloting it with as much concentration as she could.  The rest of the team consisted of the newly acquired Piotr and Kitty, Ororo and Bobby, who were still cut up over the incident in Croatia; and Tessa and Warren.  The silence was deafening inside the cabin, and all anyone could hear was the muffled sound of the engines.  A storm was brewing ahead of the flight, the lightening streaks flowing through the dark clouds.  The vapours sifted and filtered in front of the sun, blocking the light with a dark glow instead.  The rain accumulated, and was ready to fall.  

Tessa let up on the communicator, speaking to the rest of the crew.  'The Professor knows its Magneto at the heart of this, so the final fight is about to begin.  He's asked us to be so careful when we touch down.  We cannot overestimate his power enough.'

Jean turned around to Tessa, one hand on the controls.  'What did he say about Scott?  Are we to bring him back?'

Tessa shook her head sadly.  'He didn't say a thing.'

Unexpectedly, Jean heard the familiar voice of Charles echoing in her conscious mind.  * If he's there, take him back, and we can deal with him in our own way.  I'm not sure that he is, though Jean, Cerebro is having difficulty finding where he is. * 

Jean watched the skies ahead of her, replying telepathically.  * What if he's part of them now, and has caused all this pain and suffering? *

* Then leave him alone, and he shall answer for his crimes.  Anyway it goes; I'm going to keep on trying to make contact with him. *  Charles replied.  Jean left it alone for a second, wondering about her next question.  

* Professor, why did you not tell Magneto about this, didn't you know? *

* It wasn't my business to, Jean – and I would never have been able to stop the flood once it started.  He would have marked us as traitors to mutants, and still would have carried out what is happening today. *

The Crow banked right steeply, avoiding the lightening bolt that flew through the air.  It passed above the cityscape, spiralling around the skyscrapers, and finally coming to pass through the wreckage that littered the soil.  The sounds of war echoed around the area, buildings falling, people screaming helplessly, and the huge Sentinels marching across the city.  The students glided above the remains of Capital Hill, bruised and smashed with the police cars lodged in the walls.  Burnt remains lined the streets, and a clear path of destruction originated from the parks beside what was left of the Washington Monument.  It was simply a stump, the rubble crushed at its head.  The Crow sped over the new arena – streets leading to the Whitehouse.  Bobby opened the cabin door for their jet, and stuck his head out, watching the Sentinels parade toward their final destination.  He let off several bolts, freezing one of the constructs totally.  The wind battered against his face harshly, and he was pulled back in by Ororo, who made sure they stayed on board safely.  The army jets sped around the area, launching rockets at each machine, and spraying the bare streets with gunfire.  Magneto drove the rockets away, sending them straight back to the launchers.  The jets exploded in mid-air over the Whitehouse front lawn, scattering the grass with debris.  The Sentinels reached the outer fencing, and stepped over, imprinting the perfect grounds with giant footfalls.  They spread out, taking on the police and army, who had surrounded the entire estate.  Helicopters took off from behind the Whitehouse walls, but Magneto took care of each of them with a wave of his hand.  He held them down, and slowly started to crush each under his influence of metal.  The men and women fell out, and then scattered while Sentinels strode after them in a horrific display of power.  

The Crow snapped round in an arc, and Magneto knew it was the X-Men come to force him back.  So infuriated by the prospect, he froze their jet in place, and broke it apart, piece by piece.  Suspended in the air, Jean let go of the controls, and her harness snapped, throwing her body against the windshield.  The wings fell away, and the engines crumbled to nuts and bolts.  The door blew open as it was slowly being compressed, and Bobby jumped out, setting an ice slide for the others to slip down safely.  He hit the ground, and took in the entire scene.  The Whitehouse was crushed under the force of the Sentinels, who clambered over the burning wreckage, each sending up their orange flares.  People ran for the fences, and the army forces were being subdued by even more of Magneto's assault.  Bobby shook himself out of the trance, and swivelled to see his friends jumping out carefully.  The villain gave them the last few seconds to escape ahead of crushing the jet utterly.  Jean expanded a telekinetic bubble inside the cockpit where she was trapped, and it burst the windows.  She jumped to the lawn as the jet was turned to scrap metal.  The rushing wind of war spiralled around the area, billowing and blowing as the Sentinels branched out to continue the fight.  Tessa shouted for several of them to help with the police who were currently trying to save their own lives.  Bobby, Warren and Kitty took off in that direction, ready for the fight.  

'You've caused so much hurt, Magneto, and you're never going to live it down!'  Jean cursed, approaching him.  He flew into the air, just above them.  'This is my will to power, X-Men, and I'll not let you or anyone else stop me this time!'  He moulded the remains of the Crow into whole chunks of metal, and hurled them at the students below.  He took off, to find the survivors of the helicopter crash.  Piotr changed into his metallic form and took each of the blocks on his body.  He crumpled painfully to the floor, but looked to the others to pursue Magneto's retreating form.  Ororo circled around the Sentinels, floating high in the air. She summoned the storm, already violent enough, and struck down shafts of ball lightening into the Sentinels.  They blew open systematically, exploding in front of the helpless men.  The orange flares shot up, cracking over the skyscrapers and office blocks.  The surveyors scattered, and then the Sentinels toppled onto the concrete below.  Warren swept past their bodies colliding with the top of one last attacking Sentinel.  It wobbled, shakily, opening the palms of its hands onto the people below.  Its arms broadened out, causing the flares to arc.  Warren dodged one flare, but not the other.  His left wing was caught in the fire, and the feathers incinerated cruelly.  He screamed, the sound an awful high-pitched whine, as he dropped from the sky.  Ororo caught hold of his falling body, but she was dragged down too with his weight.  

The area was left without the cops, and only one Sentinel on that side was left.  It turned, watching the pair as they hit the ground.  Its foot raised slowly, ready to trample them under foot.  Ororo cradled Warren's head in her arms, as the shadow appeared overhead.  She faced it, and cried out, calling down one last strike of lightening.  Bobby saw them, and shot off his ice plume.  It set up a slope underneath the Sentinel's falling foot, and the machine slipped over, just as the lightening struck it.  The electrical charge travelled through the machine, and into the ice, finally coming to rest in Bobby, who was still firing.  It hit him brutally, and he spun backwards, unconscious.  The Sentinel fell onto its back and collapsed.  Ororo tugged Warren free, who was in too much pain to do anything.  

The President's bodyguards set up a rudimentary barrier around him and his family, as they were quickly backed into an alley.  The walls trembled and cracked about them, rubble falling in places as the Sentinels blew up the offices.  Magneto was brought down by Logan, who launched himself from behind.  He pinned the master to the floor, the six claws sticking through the material of his cloak.  'Got you now, Mags – you ain't goin' nowhere after all the trouble you've caused!'  Logan spat at him, and raised his hand to strike, but in the split second between thought and execution, Magneto brought one of the larger pieces of debris over and hit him in the back with it.  Getting up, he moulded the piece into a long battering ram.  He flew up into the air, wielding the weapon among the students.  Piotr grabbed for it, but was struck around the head whilst missing.  He tumbled out of the way, and Jean pulled Magneto down to the ground with her mind.  He used the metal in every zip on her clothes to propel her body away.  She was tossed against the rubble of the Whitehouse.  Tessa seized him as he was lowered, but he whirled around, brandishing the ram, and hit her in the midriff violently.  She crumpled, in anguish, and was left to suffer.  Casting them all away once more with a wave of his hand, Magneto returned his attention to the Bodyguards.  They were subdued by the largest Sentinel, which brought its hand down to mete out their punishment.  The bodyguards scattered, and fired off at their attacker whilst running.  Magneto deflected the bullets, and sent each of them back to their origin.  Several of the men staggered to the floor.  The Sentinel regained its composure, and rallied the others of its kind, preparing to take on the wounded X-Men.

The President and his chiefs and colleagues backed into the corner, each defending their superior.  'We won't let you past; you'll have to kill us first!'  They shouted, setting up the last defence of their leader.  The master of magnetism set down on the ground, presenting himself.  'If that is what it will take…'  He said.  They flashed weapons at him, but using the power, he tugged each gun free, throwing them far away.  They ran for him in a desperate attempt to overpower him, but Magneto lifted each up by the metal in their uniforms, pinning them to the broken, crumbling walls.  They were stuck, and looked on as he walked to the President, protecting his family.  'And now, _your majesty, I request that we communicate properly…'  He said, looming over the cowering human._

The remaining Sentinels towered over the students, as they were pitched in the middle of the melee.  Kitty ran into the group, phasing through one of them to get there.  'Bobby and Warren are out – we've got nowhere to go!'  She yelled.  'What the hell are we gonna do?'  

The machines circled them, preparing to fire.  Jean pulled herself together, and created a huge bubble around them, strong enough to support the flames.  The flares reflected perfectly off the shield, and they were blanketed with the orange firestorm.  Jean supported herself, but the strain of the combined fire was too much, and she started to buckle.  The bubble reduced, becoming closer and smaller.  The rest of the students stepped in behind her.  'If they don't let up, we gonna get fried – how can we escape this one?'  Tessa whispered.  The only noise left was the constant flickering of the flames as they dragged endlessly over the surface of the bubble.  'Come on!'  Logan shouted at Jean, who was beginning to fade.  Kitty summoned up as much courage as she could, and phased through the bubble and flames, coming out the other side.  The Sentinels spotted her at last, waving her arms.  The flares shot down on her passing straight through, and leaving the others alone.  Immediately, the others fought back, Ororo flying into the air.  Piotr leapt toward the Sentinel attacking Kitty, and changed into his metal form again.  He exerted an inhuman force at one point on the Sentinel's leg, and it caved under the pressure.  It toppled backwards, as lightening and sleet from Ororo's power struck the others.  They exploded with an earth-shattering energy, sparking more blazes along the ground.  Tessa protected herself and Jean as the falling debris impacted on the land beside them.  Logan was the first to leave, going after Magneto, determined to prove his ties with the Brotherhood were extinguished.  

Magneto dragged the President by his tattered suit collar and threw him on the lawn.  The remaining army of Sentinels dragged themselves towards the exhausted students.  He stamped down on the President's shoulder, pinning the man to the ground.  The camera crews surveying the damage from afar were suddenly deprived of all their equipment, as it was brought over the fences and into the foray.  The Sentinels burst and collapsed around the area, lightening fusing into the earth, and pieces flying through the air.  The cameras and broadcasting equipment was shoved down to the earth, and Magneto concentrated on pulling it all together.  The President quivered as he lay in a heap on the ground.  Through the mist and haze of the battle, Logan pounced on top of Magneto.  He cut into the villain's hip, digging the claws deep.  'This is for everything you've done here today, bub, and your never gonna get off that easily!'  Logan raised his hands to the sky, kicking Magneto's head into the earth and soil.  The man was dazed, as the claws sank into each shoulder.  His scream penetrated the noise, a blood-curdling scream of raw passion and anguish.  He focussed his talents, and in one swift, agonising play, ripped the metal from Logan's body away from the bone.  The mutant was forced to the floor, every nerve, tendon and muscle coming loose as the metal was sucked off the skeleton.  In his rage, Magneto was blinded, and spat blood back at his lethal servant.  'No more shall you walk this earth as a man, Wolverine!'  He screeched.  'For you are no longer anything in our eyes!'  Logan convulsed violently, howling out in pain.  Magneto squeezed as hard as he could, but at the last moment, Piotr came from out of the mist, and bear-hugged his body.  He was picked up, and lost control over the retching runt.  Magneto struggled limply, but finally flung the mutant away from him.  Piotr's colossal form crashed to the earth, and Magneto blew them all away in a fit of wrath.  Picking up the debris in the area, he flung it into the air, filling the atmosphere with whirling metal and broken ruins.  It spun and orbited his body in a giant semi-circle, surrounding him, the equipment and the President.  Falling away from the barrier, the students grouped on the outside, holding onto the last of their faith as it dissipated into the ether.  

                                                *        *        *       

Charles finally made contact with Scott, over in the Savage land.  The student picked it up on the coms, standing by Wanda, Pietro and the rest of Magneto's estranged followers.  'Where the hell are you?  I've been trying to contact you for the last two hours!'  Scott yelled down the microphone.  'Magneto's on his way to Washington, he's going to lay waste to the entire city!'  

'I know – he's already destroyed half the capital.  Most of the Sentinels have been defeated, but he's surrounded himself and the President with all the debris of the battle – we can't get through, because it's flying around at too high a speed.  We need your help, Scott, right now!  The others need you.'  Charles answered down the microphone.  'I would be able to subdue him completely, using Cerebro, if he weren't wearing that damn helmet of his, but no-one has been able to break through to remove it!'  

'I'll get on the Blackbird right now, I swear – my god, Professor, I'm so sorry I left, I wish I was there now with them!'  He replied, clutching the microphone intensely.  The connection fizzled out, and Scott was left talking with nobody on the other end.  'Professor!  Goddamn it!  The aerial's loose again!'  He cried, slamming the device on the desk.  Wanda cradled his shoulders, carefully.  'There's nothing we can do, he'll have done it all in a matter of minutes and then we can count on the rest of mutantkind being eliminated for the remainder of history.'

'There's got to be a way, I won't let it all fall apart, and fade to nothing – not what we've spent years building!  It won't let that happen!'  Scott screamed.  Suddenly, the idea entered his mind.  He grabbed hold of Pietro.  'You – you can run in there and grab his helmet off him before he'd have a chance to react – you're the only one fast enough!'  

Pietro shook off Scott's grip, and backed down.  'There's no way I'm ever going to cross him, Summers – it'll kill me, know what I'm saying?'  

Wanda pitched in, switching on the monitors.  Every station was watching the scene in Washington; the giant structure of orbiting metal span around Magneto, containing his determination.  'Brother – do it, you're the one that can save us!'  She shouted.  Pietro backed into the corner of the room.  'No way – I can never betray him!'  He screamed.

Scott pushed him against the wall.  'Consider it payback for every little thing he's ever done to you, worm!  Make it happen, or we'll be hunted, slain, hated and reviled until the last line of mutants drops in their cold blood cursing your name forever!'

'I will not!'  Pietro screamed, sobbing.  They blocked his path, and he fell to his knees, burying his head in his hands.  'After everything he's done to me, I still can't do it…'  He whispered.  

'We'll all be killed if he carries this through, Pietro, so we're asking you now… please, for your sake as much as anyone else's.'  Wanda embraced her brother, lying helpless.  'Please…'

                                                *        *        *

The swirling mass of metal spun and flew around the area, guarding the President from the harm outside.  Stanchions, poles, blocks and hunks of metal flung around and around, unceasing.  They tore into the ground, batting away the loose earth, and swirled at such a speed, it was possible for the President to see the X-Men on the other side, trying to get in.  He whimpered helplessly, but was tugged to his feet by Magneto's gloved hand.  'You…'  He sneered.  'You're the one who everybody shall see as a front for this injustice.  You will be the first and only victim of your own conscience, _sir, and I truly hope you've made your peace with it.'  Magneto threw him, beaten and bloody, to the floor.  The cameras were brought to life and focussed on the one man lying pathetically on the torn grass.  They then panned to Magneto, and continued recording, live, as he spoke.  'This is the one man who initiated the Sentinel programme over the whole Globe.  He has run a country that has single-handedly had a stake in every mutant atrocity carried out.  He's responsible for all the actions of America, and now, he will pay for it with his life; his meaningless life!'  The noise echoed through the area, the machinery smashing against the shredded lawn.  The haze of the whirling mass span out of control, buffeting against everything that it touched.  Dodging the movement, the students backed off as it expanded.  _

Pietro crossed over the waters and the land at phenomenal speed, coming ever closer to the impending disaster.  He ran past houses, roads, lakes, farms and cities, all without taking notice.  His goal was clear now, and he was going to continue until the end; until they got what they deserved.

The man cowered, shivering, as Magneto asserted his power for the last time.  'I don't want to die!  I never approved the project – it was all Spaskyich's idea, I swear – let me be, Magneto, I'll pardon you, and everyone else, I swear to god!'  He cried, shaking on the ground.  'You don't need to do this!'  Magneto raised his hands into the air, ready to purge the last obstacle in his vision.  He raised the guns off the floor, and set them around the President's head, floating serenely amid the destruction.  'Witness now,' he shouted to the live camera feed 'as you see one man fall, and another take his place – I will forever be the leader of mutantkind, a new world for a better people!'  

Pietro ran through the orbiting metal while it span against the ground.  He sped past his father, plucking the helmet off of his head, and then through to the other side of the shell.  'Consider that payback, father.'

Magneto turned to look as he felt his head bare.  The guns dropped to the floor, and Xavier's voice echoed through his mind.  * Hello, Erik. *  He said.  Magneto felt nothing for a moment, letting the force bore into his defenceless head.  He was then consumed by Charles' will, his mind almost splitting apart as the sting seared through the body.  Muscles tensed and flexed in spasm, and he finally felt the almighty strength of the most powerful mind on the planet.  It overcame him utterly, and he sank to his knees, letting out a child-like whisper of anguish, before collapsing.

Jean threw up another bubble around the students as Magneto lost control over his powers, and the debris spun out of orbit.  Parts and pieces collided brutally against the bubble, but Tessa supported it as well.  Using Magneto as a mutant superconductor, Charles took his abilities over, and drew the metal debris, still whirling around, into a colossal ball, which encased him.  Magneto was lifted high into the air, the metal surrounding him completely, and then thrown far into the upper atmosphere.  The ball vanished from sight, and Charles lost his contact with the students on the lawn.

                                                *        *        *

The Blackbird swept across the desolate remains of the Washington D.C streets, hovering above hunks of jagged metal and the Sentinel parts lying in ruin.  This time, the rain did not pour to cleanse the land of its clash with Magneto, but instead, the sun broke through the clouds.  It lit up the enduring buildings and structures, and glimmered over the white rubble of the Presidential house.  Paramedics littered the area, parking ambulances anywhere there was available space.  Black suited security men surrounded the rest of the government officials, and especially the President and his family.  They were all seen by the numerous paramedics from out of town.  The clean-up operation had already begun, construction workers coming out of the woodwork to help rebuild the fractured monuments of American architecture.  The metal hulks of Sentinel parts were being transferred by crane onto the backs of many trucks, hoping to restore a level of normalcy among the chaos that had taken place.  The reporters collected their equipment, and checked every lead, cable and wire for the perfect recording of Magneto's fall.  Somehow in the entire clamour, the students, battered, bruised and unsung, managed to leave the area without too much notice.  The Blackbird skimmed the rooftops of houses and apartments, finally resting in the centre of a small back street.  Spotting it flying around, the students limped and hobbled into its familiar confines, keeping Warren safe in the back of the cabin.  Pietro boarded the plane, but kept quiet on the journey back.

As the President shuffled away from the busy reporters, trying to get some breathing space from their intrusive questions, he stared to the sky, and made out the faint image of a large, dark jet leaving his weakened city.

                                                *        *        *

Underneath the Mansion's peaceful outer surface, the Blackbird lay safely in the hanger, back where it belonged.  Inside, Warren was stuck in Medical, his left wing bandaged.  He lay asleep, while the others sat in the large lounge several floors above.  Back with friends in his proper place, Scott listened to Charles as he addressed all of his flock.  Pietro stood at the back, present, but scarcely listening.  'I'm sorry I couldn't be there with you today, but the only way to fully defeat Magneto, and secure his fate was to use Cerebro from here.  I hope you understand.'  Logan sat at the back also, facing out of the open window with a cigarette in his hand.  He too had a lot to think about.  

'I'm really proud of the lot of you – you showed wisdom, discipline, and accuracy in your attacks, but most of all, you showed courage.  For a time I thought that you were going headlong into overbearing odds, but you proved me wrong.  I'm glad to know you lot.'  He chuckled, warmly.  'There are things that have changed now because of what took place today – hopefully for the better, but we'll have to see.  I'll understand now, if any of you need time off from studies or training.  Hopefully, we might get some more recruits if this term turns out as a success.'

They thanked him tiredly, and dissolved for the day, each going either to the kitchen or their beds.  As they were leaving, Logan came up to the Professor.  'I did somethin' today that I never did for anyone b'fore, Charlie – I sacrificed myself for another person.  I sacrificed myself for other people.  Right now, I'm not sure how I feel 'bout that…'  He grunted, finishing the cigarette.  'Anyway, that's not what the problem is… when I signed with Magneto, he promised to help me out a little.  You knew when I arrived that there was a history behind me, didn't ya?'

'Yes – you had put up many defences relating to it, so I never asked, Logan.  Do you want me to ask about it now?'  Charles enquired.

'Perhaps – but what I could settle for is trying to find a little place that I knew about, a long time ago.  I'd like to go there again to find out a bit more about my past.  Magneto hired me out of the blue when I was switching between jobs, and 'cos he looked pretty clever, I figured he'd be the best bet to help me.  Maybe I shouldn't have trusted him.'

'The real question now is do you trust _me?  I'm willing to let you back in here, Logan, if you want to be reformed.  I'll aid you, but it will be a deal that you stay for the information I help you locate.  Agreed?'  Charles suggested._

'Okay.  Can we get right on it, because for the time bein', I'm not the most popular guy in this place.'

Xavier nodded, and Logan left the room, tossing the butt in the wastepaper bin.

'What are you going to do now?'  Charles asked, looking at Pietro.

'Not too sure.  I've got to see Wanda again, so…'

'You could always stay here, Pietro – you and your sister, and anyone else who's prepared to make the change.'

'I doubt it, Professor – we made a choice to follow our Father… I don't know what the future holds, but that's a decision I'll leave for everyone else to make.  Personally, I'm not in it for the whole "save the world" take.  I'll see you around, Charles.'  With that, Pietro was gone.  He had heard Xavier's pitch, and it wasn't for him.  Now, he would leave his lot in life to fate.

                                                *        *        *

On the first floor of the Mansion, the rumpus room was active, with the last of the students watching tv.  Piotr sat on the smaller couch, with Kitty resting across his lap.  He looked at the guide, while she finished the yoghurt from a pot.  To the side of the pair was Ororo, half asleep, her head resting on one hand.  The noise was turned down low, and at the back of the room, Scott sat with Jean, hoping to patch things up.  He was looking at the rather small cut, put clean across her cheek.  He brushed his calloused thumb over it, caressing her face.  'I'm glad you're okay.'  He said quietly.  'I'm sorry I reacted so stupidly – I just didn't think we were doing too well.'

She wondered if he meant their relationship, or the team's.  'It's okay to freak out over things like that Scott.  Don't think I haven't done the same.'  She paused, looking into the reflective surface of his red shades.  'What did you think of it once you got to Magneto's place?'

'It was beautiful, but it wasn't right there – he was pretty mad, really Jean; I couldn't have followed him.  It isn't in my blood.'

A sudden impulse took Jean, and she held his hand, stroking it.  'So we're cool then?'

'Yeah, we're alright.'  He replied, comforting the both of them.  'You and Logan – what happened about that?'

'It was a mistake, Scott, that's what it was.  I don't wanna see him again.'

'Did you hear what was happening to him?'  He asked.  

'Something about going off to find his past, I don't know.  Whatever happens, I hope he doesn't bring back any trouble.'

                                                *        *        *

Tessa was holding onto some documents in the offices in the Mansion's basement, when Charles came out of medical.  She stopped, acknowledging him.  'I guess we can get rid of a lot of this paperwork on Magneto now.'  She said, pulling a wastepaper bin out from the cabinets.  'I'm not so sure that you should – maybe you should let me hold onto them.  I'll take care of everything down here.  Get some rest, Tessa.'  He said, ushering her away.  She nodded, and gave him the files.  'So what now?'  She asked, almost out the door.

'Now we have a reputation to build in the world.  Hopefully, tomorrow will find us more comfort than we found today.'   


End file.
